


On A Night Like This - Potter Chronicle's

by Oakel



Series: The Potter Chronicle's [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Caring Harry, F/M, Longing, Romance, Vunerable Daphne, growing relationship, one-night stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakel/pseuds/Oakel
Summary: Not every romance starts normally. How one fateful night in Harry's sixth year would be the first step in the rest of his life. Three Peat - First part of a series. AU - Rated M.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter
Series: The Potter Chronicle's [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769392
Comments: 13
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

_Harry/Daphne_

They had come to an agreement, much quicker than he had thought possible. 

Silence settled down on the Room of Requirement. 

The raven haired young man and the blonde young woman sat leaned against opposite walls of the room, regarding each other with calculating looks as they each pondered what they had just agreed to do. 

Internal laughter shook the young man. How had he found himself here, in this surreal situation? Things like this happened in trash novels, the kind with colourful covers of scantily clad, blonde girls clinging to broad chested and shirtless dark heroes. It was nothing that happened in real life. It was nothing that ever would happen to him. 

Or so he’d thought. 

The eager flutter of his stomach brought him back to reality, there was no denying he was excited about the coming event; his body betrayed that notion straight away. 

The young woman moistened her lips with a flick of her tongue, she lowered her eyelids and gave him a suggestive look. Sweet Merlin, yes, she was looking forward to it just as much as he did. 

And who would blame him for his anticipation? His eyes trailed to the collar of her shirt, she was a respectable Pureblood woman, so the top button was closed, emphasising the long, pale column of her throat. The tip of his tongue darted out and moistened his lips. It was there for him for the taking. His gaze travelled downward, to the gentle swell of her breasts that were hidden from view by her shirt and pale grey jumper. She wasn’t big in the chest, she had the slender frame of a dancer, with long arms and legs. Well, he’d never understood his roommates’ obsession with big chests, she stood out from the other girls at this school, delicate and elegant like a piece of art, someone special for him to discover. His gaze wandered further down, to her modest skirt that covered her knees, yet her long, slender legs were something he could stare at all day long. 

Merlin, how he had stared at them! In Potions and D.A.D.A, whenever she wasn’t looking. His stomach fluttered again, almost painful. He was done with staring, her legs were something he couldn’t wait to taste, he couldn’t wait to kiss his way up the insides of her thighs, up to… His manhood strained against the fabric of his trousers and made them uncomfortably tight. He shifted to get some space. 

Not even an hour ago he’d collided with this girl in the corridor outside of the Room of Requirement. She’d covered her face with her hands and didn’t heed where she was running as she’d bumped into him. His first gut-reaction had been anger, he’d come up to the seventh floor to find some space after Dumbledore’s funeral, some peace before the world collapsed around him. So, why couldn’t those bloody Slytherins leave him alone? 

The impact of their collision had threatened to throw him back on his behind, and he’d steadied himself with a hard grip of his hands on her shoulders, a rude swear word on his lips.

It never left his mouth when she lowered her hands and raised her head. Tears streamed from her red-rimmed eyes down her cheeks, and her mouth quivered. _‘S-sorry, P-potter,’_ she had said. 

That had done it. The slight hiccup in her sweet voice, her desperate, hopeless undertone, had hit him like a Bludger in the guts. He never had had any dealings with her in the past, save the odd lesson together, and his discrete stares, of course. Seeing her like this, her famed composure gone and the vulnerable young woman bare without the layers of genteel comportment, had struck a chord deep inside of him. Without another word he had offered his hand to pull her into the room with him, and she had asked no questions about the room or how he knew of it.

Her cheeks flushed under his gaze. “See something you fancy?” Her voice was short of breath, the modest v-neck of her sweater moved up and down under her increased breathing, and she stroked one arm with her hand. The tell-tale signs of excitement, if the sex magazines he’d found under Dudley’s mattress when Aunt Petunia had forced him to clean the baby whale’s room were a trustworthy source of education. 

Her pale blue eyes, still red from the tears, blazed at him. 

The rise and fall of his chest grew faster with each pulse under her heated stare. Yet he hadn’t forgotten why they were about to do this in his hormone induced haze. 

_‘I’ve got to marry a Death Eater.’_

Lust and anger pulsed within him all at the once, fuelling his desire even further as he pulled himself up from the wall a little further and leaned forward. 

She swallowed at his actions. 

“You,” he all but growled. 

She sat up further and her heated gaze intensified. 

The tension between them thickened, came to a boil under their intense stares, and threatened to overflow. 

She leaned forward and gave him a good view on her beautiful face. “Well then, Potter, come and fucking do something about that.”

That was it. Someone as proper as her swearing? Damn it all.

He pushed himself up to his feet. 

She mirrored his action. Her tongue flicked out again, her moist lips parted, inviting him. 

The walls of his self-restrain crumbled, he crossed the distance between them with two long strides, grabbed her by the waist and pushed her against the wall. The next moment his lips crashed against hers, an exquisite electric jolt raced through his body as the dam of his self-control well and truly burst. 

Her hands roamed everywhere and explored his slender but firm frame as his strong arms pressed her against his broad chest. His hands ran down her sides with a gentle squeeze that set her nerve ends on fire. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her own heavy breathing thundered in her ears through their heated kiss. 

How unlike her this was!

Her hand latched into his hair and tugged ever so slightly. His answering growl fuelled the fire that threatened to consume her. 

He grinded his hips against hers, his arousal pressed against her pelvis, and an almost painful sweet pull spread out in her abdomen and made the secret spot between her legs throb. She’d been courted before or there had at least been attempts, following the Pureblood traditions she so despised, so sampling the goods without a firm betrothal contract in place was unthinkable. The only kisses she knew were respectful kisses on her knuckles. Never before had a man kissed her like this, never before had a man shown her his desire this openly. 

Never before had she been this alive. She gasped against his lips. 

He took the advantage of this and deepened their kiss, his hands caressed her waist, and his urgency seemed to increase, much like her own. She reached for any part of him that she could, squeezing and rubbing as her lust threatened to overtake her. She gave in to the passion and moved her hips against him, to Hades with Pureblood self control! 

“I thought you’d never kissed before.” He panted against her lips. 

She stiffened, did he take her for a get around? She gave him her best indignant stare, although every fiber of her body screamed for him to kiss her again. 

“I haven’t.” Damn, her breathless voice lacked the coolness necessary for delivering a scathing reply.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His look touched a nerve inside of her, heat flushed through her body, and her hands clenched into fists. Should she murder him or throw him on the nearest surface and have her wicked way with him? 

The smirk intensified, his amazing eyes laughed at her with gentle mockery. 

That was enough. 

Daphne snarled. “Fuck off, Potter!” She took a fistful of his collar and crashed her lips against his. 

She kissed him again, this time even harder. How had she gone from crying her eyes out to snogging and grinding against him like a savage animal within an hour? Then again, anyone was better than the man her father had been forced to accept as her groom. How that cad had boasted in the Slytherin common room what he’d do with her on their wedding night -. 

No, she’d better not think of that, she’d better relish the moment, pretend she was with someone who truly cared for her, and make sure the scumbag who was going to be her husband wouldn’t get the satisfaction to take her virginity. She pulled away from Harry. “I’m just going with it, this might be the only time I am in control. Can you blame me for that?”

His features softened, he looked deep into her eyes, his hands rested on either side of her neck, and he touched her neck with tender strokes of his thumbs. 

“Might want to refer to me as Harry then, Daphne.” His tone was soft and gentle, like the touches on her neck, and there was nothing but understanding in the smile he gave her. 

A wave of comfort washed over her. She edged forward, as if pulled by a magnet, until their lips met again, gentle this time, almost loving. His response was soft, his tongue caressed her lips in a way that made her legs quiver, her arms snaked around his neck on their own accord, she drew him further against her, and their kiss deepened. 

A small, content sigh escaped her. This was how she had always imagined her first time, passionate and gentle.

His hands slipped down her back and rested on her behind with a gentle squeeze.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze. No man had ever touched her there. It took all of her self control not to flinch and shy away. She’d always imagined her first time to be with a man she loved, not out of a desperate need to take control of her life. When she’d asked Harry Potter to sleep with her, she had half expected him to tear her clothes off and have at it. Yet he had surprised her, he’d been passionate, tender, and understanding, as if he read her tension and fear and did everything he could to help her and make it easy on her. 

His hands caressing her behind did wonderous things to her insides. Spurred on by his wandering hands she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulled it from his trousers and snaked her hand up across his stomach. 

He hissed as she touched his bare skin. 

A wave of warmth rushed through her body, and she smiled against his lips. Who would’ve thought she could give him as much pleasure as he gave her, as inexperienced as she was? Thus emboldened, her hand explored what was underneath his shirt. 

The feel of abdominal muscles was evident, not heavily defined but not absent either. 

Her actions seemed to spur him on further, his lips ceased their assault on her own, drifted down her jaw and followed her neck with gentle tugs on her skin. 

Her lips parted in a soft moan, her other hand slid up into his hair and she held his head firmly at her throat. His ministrations there caused her stomach to jolt with excitement. Was this really happening? 

Her breath was heavy as she pressed the side of her head to his own. Her hand explored his stomach, her desire increased with each muscle she caressed.

His hands flew up to her collar, his fumbling fingers opened the top few bottoms of her shirt and grazed the soft flesh of her lower neck and collar bone. His lips followed his hands, she shivered and a low moan of delight escaped her lips. 

He seemed to want to taste every inch of her skin, and wherever he placed his lips, her skin burnt with a fire only he could extinguish. He reached the base of her neck and moved across her collarbone 

She let out another pleasured moan, and her breathing became even more erratic. His lips delved lower, and something inside her snapped. She slid her hands across his chest until she found the buttons of his shirt, and growled in frustration when the small buttons withstood her fumbling fingers. She pulled hard, her lust filled mind gave her unknown strength, her hands pulled the fabric open, and the pattering noise of buttons hitting stone filled the room, together with Harry’s low chuckles. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” 

It was like in some cheesy romance scene from a book. She didn’t care, she pushed the shirt over his shoulders and down until his upper body was bare, then pulled away from him for a moment, and let her eyes roam over his chest.

“I owe Tracey a few gold pieces.” Quidditch had done him well, he was slender and firm, not overly muscular, yet with clearly defined abdominals. He was everything she had dreamed he would be when she admired him from afar during the few lessons they shared. Not that she would ever admit to that aloud, but there was something about Harry Potter that had drawn her in since she’d seen him first during the Sorting in their first year, maybe his vivid eyes that always betrayed his emotions, or his shy, sweet smile…

He looked as if he was about to query her words, but she did not allow the question to slip from his lips, she had better things to do right now than answering questions. The sight of his shirtless chest made the heat pool in her stomach, and she almost salivated. Sweet Morgana, they were really about to do it! The need to touch him became overwhelming. Together they collided, her hands roamed his upper body, their lips were engaged in a brutal exchange, like lovers who greeted war the next day. Her shirt buttons loosened off lower and lower, his hips pressed against her, and her shirt hiked up. The fabric surrounding her body was tight, too tight. It needed to be removed. Gods, she wanted it removed.

He growled against her lips as he finally freed the last button, then ripped the offending fabric free from her body. She was only wearing a plain lace white bra, one strap had slipped down her shoulder. 

He took in a sharp breath. 

The low noise somewhat brought her back to her senses. She paused, her stomach afire with nerves. What was she doing here? Was she really going to sleep with Harry Potter to get back at the men who’d decided over her life without as much as a ‘do you mind?’ It went against everything she’d been taught. 

The memory of pale grey eyes undressing her in the middle of the common room, the trademark sneer on his face that gullible girls like her sister thought handsome flashed through her mind. Heat flooded her system, and she gritted her teeth. They’d made her a plaything, and she wouldn’t stand it, she wouldn’t come to the bridal bed like a sheep for slaughter, ready to sacrifice her virginity to that egotistical brat who would humiliate her to maintain his dominance.

No, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to be her first, and she deserved her first time to be about at least mutual passion.

Her mind made up, her hands reached back behind her, and moments later the material went slack against his chest. 

This was it, the point of no return, now they couldn’t stop if they wanted to. 

His hands flew to her legs and moved upwards, sliding her skirt up so that it bunched up about her hips. A small chuckle escaped her. So he wasn’t a chest man? He’d not once looked at her breasts yet, he seemed to be more fascinated with her legs and behind. Her bra, forgotten, fell to the floor, her breasts pressed against his bare chest, and a low moan of delight slipped from both their lips. How could something so simple feel so good? His rough hands slid up her thighs, she used the wall for leverage and wrapped her legs around his waist. His evident arousal was pressed up against her, though blocked by her underwear and his trousers. The thin fabric of her knickers was moist and clung to her most intimate spot as they continued their primal movements against one another. 

Little jolts of erotic energy surged from her nether regions as he ground against her in a tantalising slow, but firm motion, her hands ran down his front, her fingers dragged along the muscle there down to his belt. Their tight embrace left her little room, yet she managed to release the buckle, how she managed such a feat between her inexperience, his thrusts and lips on her neck was beyond her. By virtue of his movements, the fabric of his trousers slipped down his thighs.

Their most intimate of areas were only separated by the thin confines of their underwear. She breathed hard, and as his length grazed a certain point at the apex of _that_ part, a little moan escaped her lips, and she smiled in triumph. Oh how the purebloods would cry outrage that someone of her lineage would bed a filthy half blood, only blood traitors did such a thing. 

Fuck them! She hated the very notion of the status quo, if anything, she was about to be bedded by the worst of those half bloods as those bigots called him. She cried out again as he touched the sensitive spot in just the right way once again, and she buried her face into his neck.

His laboured breath thundered in her ear, his confined member brushed against her again, and the realisation of what was about to happen sunk in. Was she sure about this? Would she regret it? This was the first time she was going to have sex, this was a huge life moment that she would only get once, would it hurt? 

Harry removed his lips from her neck and looked at her, that soft expression from earlier back again. There was no deception behind those beautiful green eyes, only concern and even a little bit of apprehension. Had she tensed up without realising it? Had he somehow sensed it through his lust-filled daze? Her heart made a somersault. How many men in his place would have stopped in reaching their pleasure to make sure she was alright? The back of her throat ached, and she swallowed.

One arm still around her waist in a firm grip, he brought up one hand and cupped her cheek. His thumb caressing her cheek was almost her undoing. They hardly knew each other, their union was supposed to be a purely physical thing, yet he treated her with a tenderness and respect as if she was precious to him. 

“Are you ok? I know this is a big deal, I understand if you are having second thoughts … I’m nervous myself” 

She responded to his light chuckle with one of her own. He wasn’t like most Slytherins thought him to be, in the short hour they had spent together he’d shown her his caring and noble side, but there was also a feeling of resignation behind his words and looks, like he thought every moment would be a last one.

“I am, it’s just not how I imagined my first time to be, I’ve grown up thinking my first time would be on my wedding night. Now if that happened it would be with that death eater bastard who won’t give a toss ..” She stopped, she’d better not think about that right now. 

A dark flicker crossed his face, even though he still looked at her, his eyes had a faraway expression. “Same,” was all he said..

Daphne cocked her head to her side. What was that about? Would he elaborate his feelings some more? She held her breath. 

The faraway expression vanished as he looked down at her with another soft smile, his attention was back on her, whatever had haunted him only seconds ago. 

“Then, love me for tonight. Pretend I’m someone else if you need to.” Her heart hammered in her chest, she hated how vulnerable her voice sounded. 

He leaned forward and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. It seemed to linger on for an eternity, and with her eyes closed it was like being kissed by a loving groom. She trembled and almost whimpered when he pulled back.

Again, he caressed her cheek with a tenderness that made her knees weak. “I don’t want to pretend you’re someone else, I think we both deserve better than that. Let’s pretend we’re in love with each other and agreed to take the next step, it’s an experience we were both denied, so we’ll have to make up for that as good as we can.” 

Instead of an answer, she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a heated kiss. Virgin bride she would not be for that sadistic bastard who’d forced her into that despicable contract. No, tonight she’d give her virginity willingly to the man in her arms, a man who treated her as tenderly and passionately every girl should be treated on her first time.

She reached her hand low and grasped him for the first time. 

He startled as if a jolt of electricity had hit him. “Gods, Daph!” He panted against her neck. “That’s not … fair at all”

Warmth radiated through her body, a grin she couldn’t contain spread across her face. She had the power to give him the same pleasure he gave her. How wonderful he felt in her hand! She had no frame of reference of course, but what was resting in her palm, twitching ever so slightly, was more than enough. The boys in their year weren’t quiet when boasting about their sizes, though one had to read between the lines to find the truth. Malfoy and Nott boasted about being large, when in truth Pansy outed their disappointing appendages more than once. Another point where Harry leads the everlasting competition by… well… length. 

Her grin became wicked, and she slowly and gently moved her hand up and down. 

That elicited another hiss from him. 

She salivated and gulped, the throbbing between her legs became unbearable and ached for relief. “You can touch as well,” she muttered in his ear in a husky voice.

He wasted no time after that offer, his fingers extended under her skirt, hooked into the waistline of their knickers, and pulled them down in one swift move. His right hand slipped to her inner thigh and travelled up with tantalising sweet slowness.

Daphne arched her back and let out a groan of impatience. “Just touch me, please,” she all but begged. Her hand movements had lost all coordination under the pleasure he gave her.

“As my lady wishes,” he whispered in her ear with an audible smirk in his voice. Bastard! She trembled as his fingers continued their slow travel up her thighs towards the centre of her legs, until the hand of a man touched the soft and silky folds of her womanhood for the very first time. She tensed, her thighs quivered and clamped together, pressing his hand to her.

Harry cupped her cheek and locked his eyes with hers. He had next to no experience, yet by her flushed skin and the way she exposed her neck to him, his instinct told him she was as mad with lust as he was. Still, there was a touch of vulnerability behind her lidded eyes. It was her first time, and he would treat her as she deserved, no matter why they did this. He had a hard time to remember how they’d come to this point, Merlin, he had a hard time to string together a coherent thought at all. “You alright?”

She lowered her gaze, a flicker of emotion danced across her face, yet her breathing grew calmer, and she didn’t pull away. The pair stood pressed together, her modest breasts pillowed against his chest, her hand gripping his modesty whilst his own was held tightly between her thighs. She raised her eyes to his again, it was as if she were studying him, and her brows creased as if in confusion. What kind of men had she grown up around for her to be so surprised by his concern?

“You are… different, Harry Potter”

What did she mean by that? 

She leaned forward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. All questions flew right out of his head as she parted her legs and freed his once trapped hand. He returned her kiss, soft and gentle at first, then with mounting passion, and caressed her centre with his fingers. Each stroke he made, each sigh he got in response taught him more about what she liked. 

Daphne wasn’t passive either, her gentle touches and movements on his manhood caused the blood rushing in his ears and his breathing to increase. Merlin, how was he supposed to keep himself in control when she teased him like this? 

Her whole body buckled and coiled, along with a sensual groan, whenever his fingers reached the apex of her folds. There was something round and firm there, he pushed the little knob with his index finger and got a sharp hiss and a groan in return. Had he hurt her? He chanced a glance at her face.

She had her eyes closed and her head tilted back, the wonderful column of her throat exposed, and rubbed herself shamelessly against his hand. 

Harry smirked, so he had the power to make Daphne Greengrass let go all of her famed self control? He’d be happy to help her over the edge. He buried his face at her throat and caressed the pale skin with his tongue, while his fingers increased their ministrations. 

She had to be close, her womanhood was hot and slick against his hand, her groans increased, and her hips thrusted down on his hand with an eagerness that would probably put the crimson of mortification on her cheeks, had she realised what she was doing. 

He raised his head, he didn’t want to miss the moment when she came apart by the ministrations of a man’s hand for the very first time. Her hand fondling his length of hard flesh almost was his undoing. He gritted his teeth and fought for control. Soon, very soon, there would be time enough for his pleasure tonight. This time was all about her and her pleasure, and Merlin knew he’d do everything in his might to make the moment memorable for her. 

Daphne’s whole body shook in his arms, her centre seemed to burn against his hand, her folds fluttering and throbbing, as she threw back her head and cried in ecstasy. Her cry turned into a long, sensual groan, she thrust herself against him even harder, and he continued his ministrations until her thighs pressed together and caught his hand once more, and she sagged against him with a content sigh, her breath ragged against his chest. 

He pressed a kiss into her hair. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I did something right then?” 

She gave a breathless laugh and rested her head on his shoulder. “Most definitely so.”

She raised her head, her lips parted in an invitation he couldn’t resist. The kiss, laced with the afterglow of her climax, lasted like an eternity, yet was over much too soon. Her eyelids fluttered open, the tip of her pink tongue flicked across her swollen lips like the tongue of a cat that had tasted cream for the first time and wanted more. 

A hot wave rushed through his body at the look she gave him from behind her eyelashes. This wasn’t over yet, she definitely wanted more. However, it wouldn’t hurt to get more comfortable. 

He closed his eyes and willed the bland stone square to turn into a small bedroom. A huge four poster bed with drapes of shimmering white silk and matching silken bed sheets took up most of the space. The floor was covered with soft rugs. 

“Hold on.” Harry lifted her up and carried her towards the bed. 

Daphne’s legs came up and wrapped around his waist. 

Harry’s manhood glided against her femininity, and they both took a sharp breath. 

Daphne looked at the room over his shoulder, and her eyes became wide. “How did you do that?” 

“Magic.” He grinned, and got a light slap in return, followed by a kiss that made his stomach flutter. 

He lowered her onto the bed; there was even a smattering of rose petals across the cushions and the linens. 

Daphne smirked up at him. “You’re doing very well on the romance part.” 

“I aim to please.” 

“Oh, you do, Harry, you do.” She beckoned him with her finger to join her on the bed. 

That was all the invitation he needed, however, there was one thing still to be done. He bent down and pulled her skirt away, leaving her completely naked on the comfortable silk sheets. 

Daphne eyed his trousers, half pooled around his knees, and his boxer shorts all askew from her meddling, rose to her knees and pulled down his underwear. She motioned to the untidy heap around his feet. “What are you waiting for?” 

He shook off the offending garments. 

The young couple remained like that for a moment, her kneeling at the edge of the bed and him standing before her. An expression of unease flickered across Daphne’s face, her cheeks pinked, and her arms twitched as if she was going to cover her womanhood and breasts. 

His hands flew out and restrained them. “Don’t cover yourself, you are beautiful, Daphne.” 

She blushed even more at those words, but maintained eye contact with him as he took in every inch of her naked body. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, and so much more. 

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, love.” The endearment slipped off his tongue as if he’d said it to her a hundred times before. Harry stepped forward, placed one knee on the bed, and cupped her face with his hand. He inched forward, lowered his lips on hers, and worshipped her mouth with his tongue in a long, languid kiss. 

She sighed against his lips and explored his body with her hands. 

Harry’s hands were not idle, either, he reached low and caressed her backside, and Daphne pressed herself against him, his manhood trapped between their bodies. His other hand trailed down to her breast, and he flicked his thumb over her erect nipple. 

Daphne arched her back with a sensual groan, her kisses became demanding and heated, and she rubbed her hips against him.

Even as inexperienced as he was, Harry understood her meaning. He pushed her down onto the bed, she opened her legs, and his body settled over hers.. She arched her back, her wet heat slid against his length, and he groaned. He had not penetrated her yet, but their grinding alone threatened to bring him over the edge. His hand at her backside squeezed and stroked the soft but firm flesh, whilst his fingers at her breast rolled over the hardened nub there. In a haze of lust his own lips left hers and trailed down her throat and chest. Her heavy breaths urged him on, her hips rolled against him and drove him insane. His lips reached her breast, he took one nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue.

Daphne let out a loud moan of delight. She grinded herself against him, hot and wet, and he clenched his teeth, or this would be over much too soon. 

She reached between them, took his length, and pressed it against her entrance. Oh yes, her body was ready for him. But was she? 

He raised his head from her breast and rested his forehead against hers. Green eyes met blue, and an unspoken understanding passed through them. He captured her lips in another deep kiss as he lowered himself into her. Daphne moaned into his mouth, there was no resistance until he met a barrier, he pushed and was through before his brain realised what he had done. 

Daphne let out a sharp hiss of pain, and he froze. Had he hurt her? He was not unaware of a girl’s plight during their first time, bleeding and pain was common, Hermione had said, and Lavender had complained that most boys inexperience made the whole process that much worse. He’d made a silent vow that he at least would be passable on his first try. Well, it seemed he’d bollixed that one up.

He raised his head and looked at her. Surely she’d push him away, and he moved to slide out of her. 

She fitted him with a firm glare and wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him in place.

“Just give me a moment,” she muttered. 

So, he did.

He held himself still whilst the girl beneath him took steady breaths, his manhood half buried within her, wet and warm, and causing his being to shake with desire. Daphne moved beneath him, rolled her hips and took more of his length into her. 

His eyes rolled back as he buried his length in her up to the hilt, she was delightfully tight and warm, and the squeezing of her inner muscles threatened to break the little self control he had left. She slipped her arms around his back, her nails moved along his muscle, and he shuddered in her arms. Her eyes opened and locked with his own, her movements became bolder as the seconds eased by. He had yet to move, she had to give her permission first. 

She leaned up, her lips gazed against his. “Love me tonight, for it might be the only time someone does.”

He tightened his arms around her, his heart hammered in his chest. She was his, he’d give her what she desired. His reasoning for doing this was basic. He might be dead tomorrow, next week, a month or even a year from now. If that came to pass, then her life would be reduced to nothing but a showpiece, a prize claimed by those unworthy. 

He moved with her, their thrusts met in the middle, she cried out in gentle bliss whilst his own breaths became laboured. He found a particular angle and had her receptive, her movements becoming errant with each stroke.

His hands caressed her neck, shoulders, back, breasts and bottom, and she writhed with ecstasy beneath him. Her legs quivered and her hips shook, the next moment she convulsed beneath him. She called out his name, her hand fisted in his hair, and she tightened her arms around him. At last he gave in to the pressure, his final thrust buried deep within her, and his own climax shot his seed deep inside of her. The next second he collapsed over her.

Daphne’s heart raced as the waves of her climax ebbed away. Harry had buried his face into her shoulder, their limbs still entangled, and his ragged breath brushed over her skin.

So was this it? She closed her eyes and waited for him to pull out and get ready to leave, this was only meant to be a one night thing after all, right? 

Her heart dropped at the thought. Why did the idea of him leaving her… hurt?

He stirred above her, and she schooled her features into the bland mask that had helped her to survive six years in Slytherin. She would not show him how humiliated she was when he treated her like a cheap lay. 

The next moment his lips brushed hers, gentle and slow, and her stomach gave a small skip. His arms drifted along her sides and embraced her. Tears burned behind her closed eyelids. How could she ever have thought that Harry would leave the moment he had had his pleasure? He was the sweetest man she had ever met. Her one hand cupped his cheek and the other rested at the middle of his back as she returned his soft kisses that made her toes curl. If he carried on like this she might just melt right there.

“Thank you,” he whispered as they finally broke apart, both breathless and flushed. 

She raised an eyebrow. “I think the thanks is owed to you, Harry, I’ll never forget this night. First times aren’t normally pleasant for us girls, pair us with an inconsiderate boy and it can hurt a lot, so I am thankful my first time was with you.” 

She worried her lower lip with her teeth and waited for his reaction with bated breath. How would he take her admission? And why did she even care for his reaction? This was meant to be quick fling, why by the gods was his opinion of her important to her? 

A mischievous grin appeared on his face. “So I met your expectations, Heiress Greengrass?” 

She crossed her arms behind his neck and pulled him towards her until their foreheads touched. “You surpassed them, Mr Potter. I think just like on your broom you’re a natural in the bedroom.” 

They both chuckled, their foreheads still touching. Oh, she could look into those beautiful green eyes all night long. 

His mirth ebbed away, and that tender look appeared behind his eyes again and broke past her defenses. He lowered his head and kissed her, slow and tender.

She replied in kind. His kisses became more demanding. They were still joined at the hips, his manhood twitched inside of her, became bigger until he filled her completely. That now familiar heat pooled again in her stomach. She moved her hips, and as if he had only waited for that moment, he met her halfway. This time he made love to her gentle and tender, his slow, agonizing thrusts teased her in sweet torture until her body shook with desire and desperation. Her back arched high as an earth shattering climax rolled over her, and she let out a loud scream. 

She was still catching her breath when Harry moved off her and rolled to the side, pulling her with him. “Maybe I should ask the room to be soundproof next time,” he whispered into her ear. 

Heat shot into her cheeks, yet she was still too winded to talk, so all she could do was send him a withering look. 

He chuckled and adjusted her head at his shoulder, one hand in her hair and caressing her scalp. 

For a while they were silent and basked in the glow of their love making.

A thousand thoughts ran through Daphne’s mind. How was she supposed to go on from here? She had asked Harry to be her first in a fit of rage and rebellion against Pureblood politics that forced her to marry a despicable man in exchange for the safety of her family. This night didn’t change her fate, Lucius Malfoy was still out there, backed up by his horrendous sister in law, and out for the Greengrass seat on the Wizengamot and – even more important – the vast Greengrass fortune. Whatever he had used to blackmail her father into agreeing to marry her off to Lucius’ little shit of a son, it had to be huge, her father wasn’t intimidated that easily. 

The tip of her index finger drew small circles on Harry’s chest. If only she hadn’t made love to him, now she knew how being loved by a decent man felt like, Malfoy’s touches would be unbearable after that. 

“So, Malfoy, uh? Is your father friends with his father to pick him for you?” 

Obviously Harry’s thought had followed the same path as hers. 

She gave a derisive snort. “My father would rather bite his tongue off than calling Lucius Malfoy his friend. I don’t know for sure what went on between them, but I know that Malfoy senior threatened my father if he didn’t sign the contract. Father had to agree to keep the family safe.” 

Harry’s eyes darkened. 

How much of his annoyance was owed to his feud with Malfoy? Or did he really care for her?

“And your feelings on this? Why do you go along with this plan?” 

Daphne brought a hand to his face and locked eyes with him. ‘It’s not only my life that is at stake, Harry, it’s my whole family. I am the heiress, the future head of House Greengrass, I’ve been raised to ulfil my duties and put the needs of the family before my own. Besides that, I love them, I can’t let anything happen to them if it is in my might to prevent that. I can’t run away, Harry.” 

He tightened his embrace around her and murmured to himself, “Maybe we are more alike than I thought.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by this? Was the Daily Prophet right that he was the Chosen One who had to put his life in the line to destroy that monster that terrorised their world? 

Harry left her no time to dwell on that thought. “Yeah, I can get that. But why you, love? There must be dozens of Pureblood heiresses who would be glad to call themselves Mrs Draco Malfoy.” 

Her heart fluttered at the endearment. Could it be he really cared for her? Or was it just the intimacy they shared? 

“Not as much as you might think, Harry, and none of the other available heiresses brings a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot and a huge fortune to the bargain. Not to mention the little shit has wanted me since third year. When he couldn’t get what he wanted on his own merits, he ran to daddy, and daddy delivered, as always.” 

Harry grimaced at that. “When will you have to marry him?” 

“When the war is over, the Dark Lord forbade any of his followers the right to marry or try for heirs, he has some kind of curse on them, if they try to break it they will suffer horrible ends, my father told me. Apparently it’s to inspire his followers to win this war quickly, threatening a pureblood that their line will end with them is a great bargaining chip.”

Harry nodded in understanding.

“The idea of belonging to Malfoy sickens me, but if I do have to, the moment he tries touching me I will hold this over him.” She looked up at him, a feral grin on her lips. “I’ll tell the ferret that I was shagged royally senseless by Harry Potter, and I loved every second of it.”

Harry chuckled at that. “As much as I love the idea of Malfoy tearing his hair out that he has my seconds, won’t that put you in danger? He would likely hurt you or worse.”

Her heart hammered at that, again he was choosing concern for her over a victory of Malfoy. Why was she only talking to him now and not before? 

“Well, if you win then I won’t have to marry him.”

“That’s true”

She looked him in the eyes, she didn’t want this to end tonight. She had gone soft, the manner in which he had made love to her was surely playing on her mind.

“Truth be told I’d rather he kill me in a fit of rage than have to allow that bastard inside of me. In the meantime… I’d not be objecting to more nights like this after the summer... If I something you’d be interested in.” Gods, she sounded needy, yet she didn’t know how she was going to cope without that kind of passion and tenderness without him.

His face dropped. 

Her stomach sank, had she misread the signals he gave her?

“I won’t be returning next year Daphne, there’s something I need to do and I cannot be at Hogwarts for it.” He tightened his arms around her as if he didn’t want to let her go, and that faraway, forlorn expression appeared again in his eyes.

What was that about? 

Then it snapped.

Her stomach sank, and she flung her hand in front of her mouth to suppress her gasp of horror. 

He didn’t expect to survive whatever he was about to do.

She cursed herself. No wonder he’d slept with her so willingly and did not question it, something within him thought this may be his only chance. A wave of heat shot through her body, and red spots distorted her vision. Oh no, she wouldn’t allow him to give up, make himself a lamb for the slaughter. She’d give him something to live for. 

She pushed herself up and straddled him, her hands splayed across his chest. 

His eyes widened in alarm. 

“Harry Potter, you listen to me! I have seen you overcome odds that frankly should not be possible for Auror’s let alone teenage boys.” She lowered herself closer to his face. “I don’t know half of what is going on, but you better get out there and win, kill that bastard and come back to me!” 

Heat shot in her face, she hadn’t quite meant to be that passionate with her statement or mention that last part. It was out there now, time to own up to it. 

“What we shared tonight was something special, it certainly went beyond the physical for me, and I’d like to find out what we can be. You win the war, kick the little ferret into the arse, and you have a very grateful and intimacy starved witch waiting. I like to think that’s quite the incentive to win a war?” Would that give him the shot in the arm to rethink his survival stance? 

He gaped.

“I didn’t think… I thought you’d likely want to never speak of us again after tonight.” A wry grin played around his mouth. “But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t at least try? ” He winked at her, the next second, however, his features evened out, and a serious look took over. “I prom….” He lowered his head. 

Was he struggling to make a promise he thought he might not be able to keep? Her hand slipped to his cheek and she kissed him gently. Hopefully that would drive her point home. 

He studied her, at last he gave her a nod in confirmation and understanding.

“I promise” 

It was nearly four in the morning when she snuck back into her shared dorm with Tracey. She tiptoed to her bed, wincing slightly as she did so. Her sensitive parts were still tender from their last love making session after his promise. 

“And where do you think you have been, young lady?”

Daphne closed her eyes. Busted! 

“I went for a walk. ” She turned around. 

Tracey sat up on her bed and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. 

“A walk ... “ Her best friend dragged out the words, while she still studied her from top to toe. The next moment her eyes went wide and she let out a little squeal. 

Daphne became cold inside. Oh no, she wasn’t in the mood for the third degree from Tracey tonight. She’d rather curl up in her bed and replay their last time together, after his promise, when he had worshipped her body as if he wanted to commit each part of her to his memory for the time of their separation.

Tracey was oblivious to her mood. “Oh my god you got laid like I told you! Who was he? Was he big? Was he good? Did you come? Did yo-” 

“Tracey!” She hissed. The dorms might be soundproof with charms, but she didn’t need her best friend shouting from the rooftops what she had done tonight.. 

Tracey stopped, yet by the way she bounced on her bed and the flames of mischief dancing behind her eyes it was evident she was desperate for gossip.

“Come on, tell me anything, please!”

Daphne sighed in defeat and walked to Tracey’s bed, wincing slightly as she went, which had Tracey giggle. She ignored her friend, flopped onto the bed, and looked up at the dorm room ceiling. All she could see were Harry’s eyes as he kissed her goodbye under his amazing Invisibility Cloak in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. There had been a new fire in them. Was it determination to win the war and return to her? She surely hoped so.. 

“I’m still waiting, Daphne.” 

She let out a wistful sigh. “I didn’t get laid Tracey, I was loved.” 

There was a pause. 

“Oh sweet Morgana, you shagged Harry Potter didn’t you?”

_End of Part One_

_This fic is going to be one part of many short stories involving Harry/Daphne, part two is nearly finished._

_If anyone wans to make any requests for the future one/two shots let me know, I have the next instalment in the works as well._


	2. Chapter Two

On a Night Like This

Part Two

_A massive thanks for Dorothea’s help on this, there were rewrites, debates, and ideas all over this and I am happy to share a whole span of short stories will spill from it._

_On with the show!_

The staccato of spell fire and answering screams of pain of the battle that raged on the upper levels carried down into the dungeons, interspersed with the infrequent thunder of explosions. 

_BOOM!_

Another explosion shook the very foundations of the castle.

As the shaking subsided, one first year sobbed quietly, huddled in a corner, her hands pressed on her ears. 'I want my mummy!'

A few of the upper years students tried in vain to comfort her. Their ashen faces and shaking hands betrayed their own fear. 

From their place at the fireplace, Malfoy, Nott, Crabb, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson sniggered and sneered at the terrified firstie. 

Daphne's heart became heavy. She sat near the exit to the corridor, together with her sister, Tracey and Blaise, and gave the poor girl a look full of pity. She ought to have reached out, tried to comfort the younger student herself, yet the fate awaiting her should the battle go ill played on her mind and sapped off any additional emotional energy she had. 

A heavy tension lay over the Slytherin common room. The next few hours would decide the fate of the wizarding world, even the younger years knew that; they sat huddled in groups, whispering to each other, a myriad of emotions on each of their faces. 

Another explosion, this time much closer, shook the castle. The whole group of firsties shrieked with terror. Screams of pain from upstairs echoed their shrieks. 

Daphne's heart hammered in her chest. How many of these screams were dying screams? Was one of them Harry's? 

A new wave of laughter, coming from the fireplace, reached her ears. Her classmates, splitting their sides with laughter, leered at the rest of the house. There was no doubt they thought victory was within grasping distance. 

Pansy's shrill giggles rose above the deeper male chuckles and tormented her eardrums. Daphne would have loved to cover her ears, yet she didn't dare, out of fear her shaking hands would give her away. She couldn't afford to show any weakness, now even less so than in the last ten months.

She shot her roommate a look of disgust. She'd expected that behaviour from the boys, but Pansy? Yes, she was a bitch, self serving to the core, but to laud the suffering that would come to many in the wake of the Dark Lord’s victory was low, even for her. Worse, all that was done in some pathetic attempt to lure Draco back to her side. Well, the stuck-up pug face was welcomed to him. 

How had it come to this? 

Ever since Harry had kissed her goodbye that fateful night, she had lay awake most nights, wondering where he was and if he was alright. He wasn’t dead; the whole wizarding world would have known if he had died. Yet she couldn't help but worry for him each of her awake moments, and often enough in her nightmares. 

Then he'd burst into the Great Hall, his faithful friends by his side, when she'd least expected him. 

The war had gone bad for the Light Side for the last couple of months. Each day _The Daily Prophet_ announced the capture or death of more blood traitors, as those who fought for freedom in this country were called by a Minister for Magic who was a puppet to which the Dark Lord held the strings, as every witch and wizard in magical Britain knew. 

So why, by Merlin's saggy underpants, did Harry have to come to Hogwarts? The Dark Lord was outside the castle, ready to fight. Damn Harry's destiny, he ought to have stayed away as far as possible. 

Yet her legs threatened to buckle as the months of tension melted away at his sight. Her chest, bound by chains of worry for him, became light, and the desire to push past everyone in her house and run to him, to hold him and look into his mesmerising eyes had threatened to overwhelm her. 

Tracey’s hard grip on her wrist had helped to remind her of where she was. She'd calmed down her racing heart and took stock of the situation, as a good Slytherin should. 

The morale in the castle lifted when he had arrived, the students seemed to breathe lighter, they held themselves straighter, and for the first time in months there was laughter and excited chatter in the Great Hall. The lions were by far the most galvanised by his return, they rallied around him, shook hands with him and clapped him on the shoulder, and that redheaded Weasley slut even went so far to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. 

Strange enough, Harry hadn't been fazed by the attention he got. Focussed on the task ahead of him, he held himself with a quiet self-assurance that was new. He even looked different, his hair was slightly shorter, his body seemed more defined, and his eyes burned brightly as he readied for the greatest fight of his life. 

He'd become a man and a leader in the months away from her, and her heart almost burst with pride. 

Oh, how she had wanted to go to him! She nearly had; her feet had itched to move despite Tracey’s grip. 

Why, by hades, had that Parkinson-bitch to open her mouth that very moment? 

_"_ What are you waiting for, get him!"

All heads had turned to the Slytherin table. The expression on the faces of the students and teachers varied, from shock to anger and disgust and hatred everything was there. Only one emotion was missing: surprise. Pansy had acted like everyone expected a Slytherin to act. She'd condemned the whole house, including the innocent; in that instant the whole school had turned on Slytherin.

Not that the bitch cared, her first and only priority was the safety of her own arse. 

Professor McGonagall had hesitated, but only for a moment. The strained expression on the elderly witches face had shown there had been an inner debate going on within her, her steely eyes had swept over the entire Slytherin house. In the end her decision was to place the whole of the house within their common room. 

It was for their safety, she had said. 

Daphne gave a quiet, unhappy snort. Who was she fooling? Professor McGonagall's decision was more due to the uncertainty of how many Slytherins would aid the Death Eaters during the battle. She couldn't even blame the woman, she would've done the same. 

However, Pansy's cruel words would be remembered, they were the measure that would be put to all Slytherins by future generations if - no, when! the Light Side won the war. 

Thank you very much, bitch! As if her and Harry's situation wasn't already complicated enough without one Pansy Parkinson making things worse. 

She had considered sneaking out of the crowd and aiding in the battle. If this was about her only, she would've joined Harry in a heartbeat. Alas, it wasn't, the repercussions for her parents and especially Tori if the Dark Lord were to win - well, she'd better not think about that. 

As the Slytherins had to leave the Great Hall, Harry had looked for her in the crowd, his eyes dark with worry. Surrounded by the moving tide of her house, she could not reach his gaze and reassure him. Now she was left to worry for him even further as the terror took hold, and she could do nothing, but sit here and hope. 

Her eyes stung. So much was still unsaid between them. Sweet Morgana, give us the chance to talk!

“Here she is, my blushing bride to be!” 

Daphne's head jerked up. Damn, she'd been so wrapped in her concern for Harry she hadn’t noted Malfoy approaching them. 

He leered at her, and her stomach gave a lurch as if she was going to be sick. It seemed as if Malfoy thought the moment fitting for another move on her. Over the school year he had goaded her again and again. Thank Merlin the curse that lay over the Dark Lord's followers kept him from acting on his words, after all he wanted the Malfoy line to continue. In consequence, Draco's threats of what he'd do to her as soon as they were married had become darker as she continued to shut him down. 

“Fuck off, Malfoy.” Tracey sneered. 

“You dare talk to me like that, scum?" Malfoy looked down at Tracey along his nose. "You know what’s worse than a mudblood? A half-blood, your slut of a mother sullied herself with Muggle seed.” 

Heat welled up in Daphne, and she balled her fists. How dare he! 

Blaise jumped to his feet before her brain had found the right words to shut Malfoy down. He lurched forward, his face formed a heavy scowl at the disgusting insults towards his girlfriend. 

“Take that back!” The dark-skinned boy growled. 

The Malfoy scion flinched at the sudden movement, and almost stepped into Crabbe and Goyle who had followed him. A smirk appeared on his face, backed by his two gorillas the pounce probably thought he was untouchable. 

“Easy there, Blaise. The Dark Lord will win and reward my father beyond imagination. All I'll have to do then is say the word, and you and your half-blood bitch are history.” 

Daphne rose to her feet. “If he wins!” 

The blonde ferret turned his gaze to her, his eyes raked over her once again, and her stomach heaved. If the prick continued like this, she'd vomit all over him. Not that she cared. 

“Who is going to stop him? Potter? Please, he is no better than a squib.” Malfoy sneered. “And you'd better remember your place, bitch. The Dark Lord will win today, and then I’m claiming what’s mine, you can use that big mouth of yours for something else than talking!” 

The blood rushed in Daphne's ears, and her body shook. How dare he speak to her that way! She went for her wand. 

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" The Dark Lord's high-pitched voice shrilled throughout the castle.

Tight chains seemed to wrap themselves around her torso and press the breath out of her, her hand froze at her wand, and an uncontrollable shudder went through her body. No… No, this couldn't be true. Sweet Morgana, not her Harry! 

Malfoy let out a whoop of glee, he turned around and high-fived Nott and with his goons. 

Daphne's knees buckled. An arm wrapped around her waist and steadied her. 

'There, Daph, hang on, you're strong, you'll get through this,' Tracey whispered in her ear. 

The doors of the common room opened. The children of Death Eaters, Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, walked in front, like a flock of prized peacocks. They sauntered through the hall, laughing and congratulating each other, as if they personally had achieved a great victory. Pansy hung off Nott's arm, they sang some disgusting song about the dead parents of mudbloods at the top of their lungs. 

Tracey stuck close to her side as they followed the Death Eater spawns out of the common room. Her body didn't seem to belong to herself, it was heavy and weak as she dragged it through the hallway, as if the floor had turned into deep mud that was holding her back. Pansy's shrieks of laughter and the victory cries of Malfoy and his ilk reached her ears as if through a thick layer of cotton wool, somewhat muffled, but at the same time loud and clear, and driving home the point without mercy: 

This was going to be her life from now on, paraded behind this bastard, a life of misery and humiliation being his wife. 

Her insides were like ice, with Harry’s death her heart had stopped. Oh Harry! Why did he leave her? He promised to return to her… 

A sharp pain stung behind her eyes, and her sight became blurry. Their chance was stolen from them, and with it, any hope for happiness she might have had with him. 

How long until that bastard Malfoy triggered their marriage, how long until she would be held to a bed? Bile rose up in her throat. Her eyes glanced to one of the open windows, she could still escape, run away, and kill herself; surely death would be a better escape, at least there she could be with Harry? But what would become of her family if she chose that path? Malfoy would not be above to demand Tori's hand in marriage if his big catch slipped out of his fingers; he was dead set to lay his hand on the Greengrass fortune, the greedy bastard. No, she couldn't force on her little sister the destiny she wanted to escape from. And… she wanted to see Harry for one last time, tell him goodbye, even if only from afar. 

A choked sob escaped her lips. 

Tracey tightened her grip on her and whispered words of comfort to her, yet the words could not reach her. 

They reached the entrance hall. Where once had been the door where professor McGonagall had welcomed them on their first day, now gaped a huge hole. Debris and shards of glass littered the floor, and the colourful tapestries that adorned the walls were torn down and scorched. 

A heap of black and scarlet red at the bottom of the Spiralling Staircase caught her eyes. Were that the remains of the big tapestry that had adorned the back of the staircase? 

Nott stepped closer and nudged the heap with the tip of his shoe. 

The heap rolled to the side and revealed the still pretty face of Lavender Brown. Her lifeless eyes stared up to the ceiling, out of a white, yet unmarred face. What was below that, however…

Daphne gulped and closed her eyes. Behind her, someone retched. The next second the acrid smell of bile reached her nose. 

Pansy's shrill laughter permeated the shocked silence. 

Daphne's head jerked up. How could she? Her hand moved, as if to grip her wand and hex the heartless bitch into the next millennium. 

Again, Tracey gripped her wrist. 'Not yet. We have to find out what is going on first, and then decide how to go on,' she whispered into her ear. 

She nodded, her tongue flicked across her dry lips. How foolish of her, how could she have forgotten the first rule of self preservation? Think first, act then, and retreat if necessary. There'll always be a next time to fight, but you can lose your life only once. 

It was a lesson Harry had never learned. 

Daphne cast a last glance at Lavender's mutilated body. At least the horrible sight had prepared her for what was awaiting her in the Great Hall. Without doubt Harry's body had been made a plaything for the Death Eaters and would look even worse. Merlin give he hadn't suffered too much…

She gulped again, squared her shoulders, and followed the crowing party of Death Eater spawns into the Great Hall, Tracey still firm by her side. 

She spared only a fleeting glance for the tall figure with the pale, snake-like features. His black robes billowed around him, and wild, unhinged triumph burned in his red eyes. 

Where was Harry, where was his body? 

A long row of dead lined the wall of the Great Hall. Her stomach turned into a hard knot of pain as she examined the faces, her hands clenched to fists until her nails dug deep into her palms. Some faces she knew from lessons, like Professor Lupin's, others from walking between classes, like the face of one of the Weasley twins.

The Slytherins came to a stop in the hall. The bodies were too much for the younger students of her house, they cried out in fear and anguish. 

She couldn't blame them. How many of their friends lay dead, how many members of her house had lost siblings who were in other houses? 

Death Eaters surrounded the surviving defenders of Hogwarts and held them at wandpoint. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students stood huddled together, their heads hung low and their shoulders slumped, waiting for the punishment they'd receive at the hands of the Dark Lord for defying him. Not so the Gryffindors. Even in defeat they stood tall and proud. Their heads held high, they refused to kneel before their enemy. How that defiance must vex the Death Eaters who surrounded them, Godric Gryffindor would be proud at the sight. 

Lucius Malfoy strutted around, an oversized peacock like his son. What a disgusting pair they made. 

Malfoy junior scoffed. “They should kill them all.” 

Daphne shuddered, until now she'd thought she couldn’t hate him more. Seemed as if Malfoy still had the power to surprise her badly.

A glow of dark satisfaction ignited in her heart as her gaze fell on the twisted and unmoving forms of Death Eaters. May they rot in hell! 

She took a double take, her belly gave a small flutter, and she held her breath. 

One body was absent from the rest. 

Harry’s. 

A small spark of hope blossomed in her heart. 

She extinguished it at once, the Dark Lord would not announce Harry's death if it were not true. 

She shuddered and hugged herself. So much death, and for what? 

“Harry Potter is dead." The Dark Lord's voice dripped with unconcealed glee. "You have fought valiantly, but now is the time you surrender, there is no need for further bloodshed. Harry Potter was merely a misguided youth, placed by Albus Dumbe-“ 

“Where is he?” A strong, young voice dared interrupting the Dark Lord. 

The whole hall turned their heads at once. 

There stood Neville Longbottom, bloodied and beaten, but standing, and meeting the Dark Lord's red eyes with a look of hatred and utter defiance. 

Behind her, Malfoy scoffed, arrogant in victory. 

“Your name, child?” 

“Longbottom, Neville Longbottom” 

“Longbottom, I know that name from somewhere…. Ah yes, our dear Harry… Rotting in the forest, I would imagine.” Voldemort said, his non-existing lips curled in a gleeful sneer. 

Her heart clenched in pain, and Daphne stifled a sob. Gods, why did it hurt so much?

Tracey's firm grip around her waist never loosened. DearTracey! She was the only one who knew about her and Harry’s tryst and was doing her best to offer some comfort. 

“Bullshit!” Neville shouted. 

The Death Eaters greeted his outburst with mocking laughter. 

“It is no lie, little bitsy Bottom.” Bellatrix Lestrange cackled and danced around the hall. “It was pathetic, really, he just stood there, he didn’t have the nerve to fight the Dark Lord. And _whoosh,_ little Potty was no more." 

Her sing-song voice made the bile rose in Daphne's throat. The bitch was more psychotic than she'd thought. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, and her throat became tight, as she in vain tried to wrest away the thought of Harry standing alone in the forest as he was killed. 

She blinked the tears away. She could not cry, not here. While she was perfectly willing to ruin Malfoy's mind with her activities with Harry, the Dark Lord would surely delight in making an example of her, or far worse, her family. 

Instead she replaced the horrid images with the memory of his warm smile when he walked her to her common room, and his laugh as they basked in the afterglow of their love making, to shield her grief from the Dark Lord. 

“Do you doubt my words, Neville? Perhaps I should send you to join him.” The Dark Lord raised his wand. 

If Neville felt fear he did not show it. 

The Dark Lord's snakelike face twisted in fury. “As you wish. I'll make an example out of you, to punish you for your insolence. Nobody defies Lord Voldemort!" He slashed his wand down. "Crucio!” 

Cries of fear, outrage and glee echoed through the hall as the Dark Lord's spell raced forward.

Neville shut his eyes, resigned to his fate. 

The curse slammed into the Longbottom heir. The cries of alarm, outrage and glee around the hall intensified.

Daphne braced herself for what was to come, the horrible cries of agony until Longbottom's voice gave out, and the sick twisting of his limbs and torso. 

The light of the curse wrapped around the young man.

Daphne gritted her teeth. 

The curse dissipated as if a shield enveloped Longbottom, and then flickered out with a harmless sizzle. 

A gasp went through the Great Hall. How was that possible? 

The Dark Lord snarled and hurled more spells at the Longbottom heir, yet none took effect, they all wisped away to nothing. 

The gasps turned into whispers, the lions twitched, sensing a weakness, one they could fight, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs straightened. 

Daphne held her breath. How could it be that the alleged greatest dark wizard of all times couldn’t harm a teenager? Under the cover of the folds of her robes her hand went for her wand. Beside her, Tracey did the same. 

The Death Eaters exchanged confused and worried glances, the Dark Lord raised his wand and glared at it in frustration 

Bellatrix’s shrill voice screeched into life. “Avada Kedavra!” 

The sickly green light flew towards Neville.

Out of nowhere, a slab of granite rose before him. The curse slammed into the stone; the stone shattered into tiny pieces, such was the power of the curse. Yet the Gryffindor stood, tall and proud. 

The deranged witch let out a scream of fury and readied her wand again. 

“It's over, Tom!” 

Daphne’s heart stopped; she gaped, then warmth spread in her chest and her heart leapt into her throat. She knew that voice! A smile she couldn't contain appeared on her face. 

The air in front of Neville rippled; out of nowhere Harry threw off his invisibility cloak, his wand raised. 

The lions, fighters they were, moved first, determined not to lose the advantage of surprise. Many Death Eaters were still paralysed with shock when the lions rose, and fell under their vicious opening salvo.

The Hufflepuffs reacted next, followed by the rest of those fighting for the school. A torrent of spells rained down on the Death Eaters, who, gloating in the security of their victory only a second before, had no idea how the tide had turned that fast on them. 

Those who had lost their wands tackled the Death Eaters to the ground, punching and kicking their victims. The followers of the Dark Lord fell like wheat under the scythe. 

A large, dark skinned Auror got Nott senior with a Banishing Spell. The Death Eater lost his footing, flew towards one of the Great Hall’s large windows, crashed through the glass and fell to his death with a long scream. 

Lord Parkinson shrieked in fury and raised his wand at the dark skinned Auror. Out from nowhere a Bludgeoning Hex struck him. His neck gave an audible snap, and he crumbled to the ground. 

“That's for my brother, you bastard!” the surviving Weasley twin yelled over the carnage. 

Pansy screamed, whilst Theo just stared at the window his father flew through. 

The glow of dark satisfaction once again spread in Daphne's chest, and she allowed herself a grim smile. How fitting, both had mocked and jeered the dead parents of their classmates not twenty minutes ago, and now both of their fathers were dead. Divine justice could be a right bitch.

She hadn't been idle, either. The moment the fighting began, she'd whirled around and struck down Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle with a well aimed Stunner to their privates each. No use in making Renervating them easy, they'd be out of it for at least an hour.

Daphne’s eyes sought out Harry in the chaos.

He and Voldemort were engaged a brutal duel. The Dark Lord waved his wand in a deadly dance. 

Daphne's stomach lurched, and her heart jumped into her throat. How was Harry supposed to content with this onslaught?

She couldn't keep her eyes away. Harry weaved and jumped out of the way of dark curses she had never seen before. 

“Daphne, we have to get to cover!” Tracey pulled her elbow and dragged her towards the doors. She looked back over her shoulder at Harry.

Never before she'd seen those emerald eyes look so cold. They burnt with a hatred at Voldemort that seemed completely out of character for Harry. Even though it was evident that his magical prowess had increased over the last months, he still was out of Voldemort's league and barely deflected a Bonebreaker Curse. 

Her hand tightened around her wand. She had to help him! 

“I-“ 

Tracey grabbed both of her arms and pulled. 

“You will not be able to help him, that's Vol- the Dark Lord, and you would be child’s play to him, not to mention a distraction for Harry. Please come with me, Tori is terrified” 

Daphne looked over to where her sister was, Blaise had pulled her with him when the spells started flying. Her eyes were flooded with tears as students scrambled to cover. Tori was only fourteen, she shouldn’t even be here. She motioned to move to her sister, but hesitated, looking back at Harry, torn between her duty and her heart. Her head told her to get Tori and run, get to safety, yet her heart was raging against her to damn it all and help Harry. 

“You won’t help him by being dead, Daphne!” 

Tracey was right, she would be a distraction for Harry if she went to help. Right now, her sister’s safety was her priority. With a deep sigh, she allowed Tracey to drag her out of the Great Hall. 

…

Voldemort’s corpse crashed in a heap on the stone floor.

His arms limp by his side, Harry looked down at the dead body of his enemy. Bile rose in his throat, and he fought back the urge to retch. 

He had avenged his parents and so many others, but at what price? He did not wish to cast that curse ever again, he did not wish ever to feel that hate again. 

He looked down at his holly and phoenix feather wand that had served him faithfully for seven years. The warmth that had always been there whenever he touched his wand was gone, its allegiance didn't belong to him anymore.

“Harry?”

He raised his head, as if awakening from a long dream.

Kingsley stood in front of him, examining him with his head cocked to the side, and an expression of concern on his face. 

“Are you ok?” His deep voice broke through the cheering and commotion. Behind the tall Auror, people fought to get past him, to get to their hero and celebrate him.

Strange, he'd neither noticed the noise nor the masses that wanted to get to him, there had only been one thought that consumed his whole being: it was over, at last. Thank Merlin the few surviving order members and Aurors kept the hordes back. 

“Yeah, I’m good, I just needed a moment.” He gave a nervous chuckle. Of course he wasn’t alright! 

In front of him, the hordes kept screaming, but their voices were just murmurs of white noise; dizziness overcame him, and his mind could not pin down a singular thought. 

Memories raced through his mind. _Qurriel, the Basilisk, Sirius falling into the veil, Cedric’s lifeless eyes, Dumbledore falling, Hermione’s torture at Malfoy manor._ His breath became laboured, and he fought the urge to scream. 

“Harry!” 

Kingsley grabbed him by the arm, his eyes wide with concern, and shook him back into reality.

"Sorry, what did you say?" 

“Nothing, you just spaced out on me, like you weren’t even here… What's wrong, kid?" 

Harry opened his mouth to tell him he was fine. 

"Look, Harry, you don’t need to lie to me, I'm on your side here.” Kingsley smiled, but the grief behind his eyes was evident, they had lost good people today. “I would rather you didn’t have to be subjected to all this right away. However, you saved the day, you're the hero, and everyone wants a piece of you." He reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Humour them for a while, I promise to get you away soon."

Harry listened to him with half an ear only. His body ached all over, the floor seemed to sway under his feet, and above all there was that strange numbness, as if he was detached from his body and looking at himself from outside. If only he could catch a glimpse of Daphne. She could ease this, anchor him and bring him back to reality. 

Merlin give she'd be alright. 

He kept searching; the celebrating, mingling crowd was like hundreds of colourful blobs swirling around. Damned glasses, why did they have to get dirty that often? He removed them to clean the lenses, and the world became so much sharper and clearer. His eyes became wide. How was that possible? 

And then he saw her. 

She sat in the corner of the Great Hall with three others, Tracey Davies, one of few Slytherins that had never caused him any trouble, Blaise Zabini, who'd been in the Slug Club with him, and lastly a slightly younger looking girl who looked somewhat similar to Daphne. 

As if she could sense his eyes on her, she looked up.

For the first time in seven months their eyes met, and she broke out in a radiant smile. 

His lips turned up in a match that rivalled hers. 

She glanced at the gathered crowd around him, rolled her eyes, and shrugged her shoulders. “Later,” she mouthed to him. 

His heart floated in his chest, he took a deep breath that cleared away the last vestiges of his concern for her wellbeing, and gave her an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. 

He turned to Kingsley once more. "I'm sorry; you said -?"

The Auror regarded him with a knowing smile on his lips. “I’ll tell you what, just do your best for a couple of hours, then I will get you a moment to yourself.” 

“Thanks, Kingsley” 

“No problem, anytime we can find a little happiness in a dark time is worth it.” 

“I don’t know what you-“ 

“Harry, please. I was young once.” Kingsley boomed and moved aside to make room for the adoring public.

The crowd thundered towards him, the first to reach him were Hermione and Ron. Both had tracks of dried tears on their faces as they threw their arms around him, and shouted something incomprehensible. Teachers and fellow students followed, grabbing him, hugging him, thanking him; Aurors shaking his hand and telling him they hoped to see him join their ranks soon enough, before they were pushed away by the next one who wanted his moment with him. 

They all were out of their minds with joy and relief, and he had to be there for them. They didn't care that he was tired to the bones, that he craved the company of only very few, or that the strange numbness and feeling of detachment that had overcome him wouldn't go away. It was hard to move without swaying or falling, noises reached him as if through a layer of cotton wool, yet they hurt his ears, and movements were blurred and eerily slowed down, as if he saw everything in slow motion. 

Though there were also moments of quietness and grief; more than once he had to comfort those who had lost loved ones in the last battle or in the war. 

One of them was Ron, he held onto his best friend as the redhead mourned the loss of Fred. He had given the rest of the family space, the last thing they needed was swarms of people around them whilst they tried to speak with Harry. 

His own grief had to take a backseat. Both Remus and Tonks had been killed in the fighting; that had been the final straw that had him walk to his death. Everything inside of him had revolted against the idea of sacrificing himself. He had made a promise to Daphne, he wanted to experience how it was to fall in love, have a family one day… All that had been denied of him, thanks to a monster and a meddling old man. If only he'd known of the soul fragment inside of him sooner! Maybe they could have found a way around that, Hermione wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing. Why had it always to be him who was denied the simplest things in life, yet had to make the most outrageous sacrifices? 

But on seeing the last of his parent's friends peacefully in the arms of Tonks he couldn’t handle seeing another friend or innocent killed. He had told Hermione and Ron what he had decided, his life for everyone else’s, he could not fault Dumbledore for the logic there. The needs of the many would always outweigh the few, at least in his death they could beat Voldemort. 

He took a deep breath and straightened. What his life held now he had no idea, yet there were so many possibilities waiting for him to explore them. He could join the Aurors, as he had always wanted, he could travel and see more of the world, or he could get himself a quaint cottage by the sea, like Shell Cottage. Then there was Teddy, he was an orphan now, his grandmother would take care of him, yet Harry was his godfather, he would not fail in that duty. And of course there was Daphne…

Again a broad smile appeared on his face.

Kingsley stepped towards him. "I've come to help you escape, as promised." 

Harry let out a breath, and his shoulders slumped. 

Kingsley chuckled to that. A movement from the doors to the Great Hall extinguished his mirth, he frowned and turned around, his hand on his wand. 

Parents of students were flooding into the hall. 

“News got out fast,” the large auror said. 

“Indeed, it seems that way.” Harry's chest became warm and light at the sight of parents embracing their children, and families celebrating their reunion. 

A couple who could only be Daphne's parents, going by the similarity, pushed their way through the crowds towards the spot where Daphne sat together with her sister. At their sight, both girls shrieked, jumped up, and flew into their parent's open arms. 

Unfortunately, the Malfoy's were also among the parents reuniting with their children. They stepped to their son and embraced him. 

Harry's hand moved to his wand. “How the hell are the Malfoy’s still walking free?” He motioned to confront them. 

Kingsley put a hand on his arm and stopped him. “I haven’t sat idle, Harry, Aurors are stationed at every Floo channel here, they have been arresting any surviving Death Eaters who tried to escape the grounds. However, we knew some would try and collect their children, thinking they would blend in. We will be picking them up as they leave, you have my word.” 

Harry growled; how could it be that those bastards were still breathing, let alone walking around? Yet, Kingsley probably knew what he was doing, so he merely nodded and decided to trust the seasoned Auror. 

Lucius Malfoy, his arm still around Draco's shoulder, bent down and said something to his son that made the ferret smirk. His gaze flew to Daphne and her family for a fleeting moment, and he nodded. 

Harry tensed. What was that about? 

The Malfoys walked over to Daphne and her family. Lucius Malfoy tapped Daphne's father on the shoulder. Mr Greengrass turned around, his smile vanished, and he got up, a frown on his face. 

The two men took a step away from the table, then what seemed to be a heated debate took place. 

Harry watched the whole exchange from a distance, judging by the look on Mr Greengrass' face, it was not going well. 

Mr Greengrass motioned to his wife and daughters to get up and join him. 

The Greengrass women followed suit, yet hesitantly and with an expression of unease on their faces. 

Daphne turned her head and caught Harry's eye. 

She was definitely pleading for help. He tightened his grip on his wand and moved forward.

Kingsley's hand held him back yet again. “Don't, Harry, this is a matter between old families, it's not your place to interfere.” 

The Malfoy family made to leave the great hall, ensuring they did not meet the eyes of anyone else, with the Greengrass family following. 

Harry looked at Kingsley. "You're wrong, this is a matter that concerns me as well."

The Auror sighed and pulled back his hand. “Go on, but please, Harry, don’t kill them.” 

Harry grinned. "Aw, Kingsley, you're taking away all the fun." He gave the dark skinned Auror a two-fingered salute, turned on his heel and followed Daphne and her family out of the Great Hall. He couldn't wait to give the Malfoy slimeballs a piece of his mind. 

…

Daphne's mouth was dry as she followed her father out of the Great Hall, and she bit her lower lip. What was this all about? The Malfoys couldn't insist on following through with that outrageous betrothal, could they? After all, they were on the losing side of this war, whatever they had in their hands to blackmail Father, it surely must've lost its power now? 

Lucius Malfoy stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned around to Father. “This marriage still stands, Anthony.” His voice was as haughty as ever, he stood tall and looked down his nose at Father. However, his dishevelled hair and the unkempt stubble on his chin took away a great deal of the authority he wanted to exude. 

Daphne scowled at him from behind her mother. How did he dare? 

“You have no leverage now, Lucius, I only entered into that disgusting contract because you threatened my girls. Your master is dead, you are finished!” Father said.

“Am I, really? I escaped the last war, Greengrass, I will escape this one as well. My threats still stand, your daughter will marry my son and ally our families.” An ugly sneer on his face, the elder Malfoy stepped closer to Father, until their noses almost touched.. “If you do not comply, Draco will have my consent to do with your heiress what he wishes.” 

Daphne tensed, she flared her nostrils and raised her chin. The arrogance of this man was unbelievable. He was beaten and broken and still feeling he had any semblance of power. 

Draco leered at her from behind his father. 

Heat flushed through her body, and her hand went for her wand. The elder Malfoy rated his son’s strength too highly, if that disgusting ferret made a move on her, he had it coming. With Voldemort gone and Harry back, she didn't have to play the obedient Pureblood bride anymore.

Father had tensed up as well, and he had his hand on his wand pocket. It seemed that he was moments away from assaulting Lucius. 

“If your son somehow escapes prison, if he comes near either of my girls, I will ensure he cannot continue your wretched family name.” Mother had stepped beside Father, tall and proud, and her eyes shot daggers at Malfoy. 

Daphne curled her lips into a smug grin. Mother was a pureblood wife through and through, but underneath that exterior was a lioness, a traditional Gryffindor if there ever was. Stronger men than Lucius Malfoy had cowered under her glare.

Lucius Malfoy was no exception, he retreated a step, but unfortunately recovered and glowered at Mother. 

“This does not concern the ladies of the house. Go back to your embroidery, woman.” He turned his attention back to Father. “You need to keep your wife under control-“ 

“You will not talk like this about wife! This conversation is over, Malfoy, to hell with our agreement! You were a fool to not get a signature from me, such was your arrogance of victory.” 

Father turned to his family. “We are leaving.” 

Daphne took a deep, satisfied breath. She had hated Father when he first told her about the agreement, but she had never felt so much pride as she did now. 

“You will not turn your back on me, Greengrass!” Lucius roared. 

Daphne whirled around, as did the rest of her family, and looked into the raised wands of both Lucius and Draco. Once again heat raced through her body, she gritted her teeth and grabbed her wand. Who did they think they were, they were history the moment the dark lord fell, they had nothing to gain from this. She wouldn't mind to drive that point home with her wand. 

“I was not in the dark lords inner circle for nothing, Anthony” 

“Girls, get behind me.” Father whispered. 

Daphne went to protest, but her mother grabbed both her and Astoria and pulled them behind her. 

“Lucius, there are Aurors everywhere, do yourself a favour and stand down.” 

“No one says no to a Malfoy-“ 

Something warm touched her from behind, like the aura of a familiar magical person reaching out for her. The hairs on the back of Daphne's neck stood up, and her breath caught. She motioned to turn around as already two streaks of blue light flew past her, connected with each of the Malfoy’s wands, and shattered them. 

“Thought you might have needed the help,” an oh so familiar voice said.

Warmth ignited in her chest, and a smile she couldn't contain spread on her face. 

Harry! 

Daphne spun around. There he was! 

He lowered his wand; there was a fire behind his eyes as he glared at the Malfoys. He held her gaze for a short moment, and the warmth and tenderness they had shown on that fateful night enveloped her once again. Until now she'd had no idea how much she had really missed him. Everything inside of her urged her to run to him. Unfortunately, this was not the moment for that. “It’s over Malfoy, you’re done.”

She shuddered; Harry's voice was even colder than Mother's. 

Lucius got the hint first, he held up his hands, palms outward, in a signal of defeat. 

Good! 

Draco sneered, his shattered wand in his hand. 

Daphne sighed, of course the brat wasn't going to go quietly. Did he really think he'd stand a chance against Harry without a wand? Heck, he wasn't a match for Harry, even with his wand.

“ You’ve been a little shit since first year, always getting in my way. You will not get in the way me and what’s mine,” Draco screeched. 

Harry didn't deign him an answer, he just waved his wand and bound both Draco and Lucius with thick ropes. Another short flick bound them together. 

Mrs Malfoy just stood by as her husband and son were overpowered, it seemed as if she had given up. Or maybe she just didn't care? Well, it didn't matter right now. Daphne's eyes turned to Harry, as if pulled by an invisible force. 

The easy smile she loved so much was back on his face. 

At last she gave in, Pureblood control be damned, and ran towards him. His arms opened, she crashed into him, and her arms encircled his neck as she buried her head into his shoulder. 

A scream of outrage came from a bundled up Draco Malfoy. Harry smirked at her, and another flick of his wand silenced the ferret. 

.One arm circled her waist and the other holding the back of her head, his warmth against her was the greatest thing she had been given in a long time, and she let out a shaky breath. 

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered so only here could hear, and tightened her embrace. 

“So did I, so did I.” He returned her hug with the tenderness she remembered so well, and chuckled when she practically crushed him against her. “ I made a promise, didn’t I?” 

Something between a snort, laugh and sob slipped from her mouth. 

A clearing of the throat brought the young couple's attention away from one another. She pulled away from Harry, committing his face to memory again, just in case he was taken from her once more. 

“Daphne, would you care to introduce us?” Father watched their exchange with a wary expression. Her mother and sister, however, looked bemused. 

“Of course, Mother, Father is this Harry Potter. Harry is this my mother and father, Isabella and Anthony Greengrass.” She fought to keep the blush from her face at her uncharacteristic display of affection in front of her parents. “And this is my young sister, Astoria.” 

“Pleasure to meet you all,” Harry said. He stepped forward and gave her father, and kissed the hands of her mother and sister. 

Her eyebrows shot up, she didn't know much of him, but she had observed him quite a lot during all those years, and he'd never given away that he was aware of Pureblood customs. Hell, he'd looked so awkward at the yule ball in fourth year, yet he carried out the greeting with her parents flawlessly. 

“The pleasure is ours; you have my thanks for your intervention with the Malfoy’s. I was not aware that my Daphne was friends with the great Harry Potter?” Father asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Daphne exchanged a quick look with Harry, they hadn’t defined anything yet, this was the first time they were seeing each other since that night. Yes, she knew what she wanted, but did he want the same? What if he had changed his mind about them during all those long months he was away, doing Merlin knew what, to bring that monster down? She wouldn't know for sure until she had a chance to talk to him. 

The gentle smile and slight wink he gave her in return did a lot to alleviate her worries. She turned to Father. 

“We became friends just last year, Harry and I were paired in potions and hit it off.” 

An inward groan echoed in her head as soon as the words were out. 

_Hit it off!_ She didn’t talk like that, and her parents would see right through it. 

Father quirked an eyebrow, his head tilted upwards, and he looked down his nose at her. Apparently he saw right through her, Father reserved that special look for when he knew his girls were lying. 

“Now, I thin-“ 

“Honey, I think we should give Daphne and Harry their priv for a few minutes.” Mother’s voice broke in before Father could finish his sentence. 

Father opened his mouth as if he was going to object, but a firm look fro Mother silenced. He gave them a reluctant nod, thanked Harry again, and walked in the direction of the Great Hall with Astoria in tow. 

Mother turned to them both with a knowing smile. “Perhaps we shall meet again, Mr Potter.” She held out her hand, and Harry executed another perfect bow and kiss on the knuckles. 

"It will be my pleasure, Mrs Greengrass." 

Mother turned towards her. “I think I can get you five minutes, your father wants to get you and your sister home.” She gave her an affectionate pat on the arm and followed her husband and youngest. 

“We don’t have long.” Daphne stared into the mesmerising green eyes that had been the center of her dreams for so long. Her heart beat in her throat. Gods , she wanted to say so much, do so much but there would be time for that later. 

He was smiling down at her, just smiling. 

She reached up to her face. “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“I missed you.” 

Her stomach made a joyful jump, and her heart beat faster. She tried to speak but the words failed her. All she could do was look into his smiling face and bathing in the warmth that surrounded her. 

He looked tired and worn, but his smile was genuine. 

She swallowed. “I missed you too.” Why by Hades did they have to be in the school corridor, with the Malfoy’s of all people? Everything inside of her screamed to kiss the man, take him in her arms and take comfort in his presence. 

She restrained herself. Soon, but not now. “Look I really want to talk, I’ve got so much to say to you and … please meet me at seven tonight? The astronomy tower?

“Ron and Hermione will freak out if I just vanish later tonight.” He chuckled, his eyes alive with mirth. “But I'm sure I can figure something out” 

“It will be our little secret then” 

They locked eyes for a moment. 

“I suppose one wouldn’t hurt.”

"Huh?" 

Instead of an answer she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to his lips for the first time in ten months. She resisted the urge to step closer to him and pulled back reluctantly. “I’ll see you later, Harry” 

“I will, I’ll just make sure these low lives are handed to the Aurors.” He, nodded to the Malfoy family. 

They both stood there for a long moment, their eyes locked, messages sent and received., 

Daphne smiled one last time, then turned and followed the route her parents took. She had some preparations to make!

……

Wow this was initially going to be a one-shot. However the size of this is simply two large for one and now even two chapters.

Part three will follow soon, it is written it is just being beta’d and I am not rushing my wonderful beta as otherwise we wouldn’t be even close to this quality of work.

Keep your eyes peeled!


	3. Chapter 3

On a Night Like This

Part Three

Harry walked back to the Great Hall. The moment he set a foot into the room, he was once again pulled this way and that by reporters, teachers and everyone else in between, all wanting a moment with him. 

While he shook hands and nodded and smiled to the praise heaped on him, his eyes searched the crowd for Kingsley. There he was, near the platform that once held the teacher's table and had been turned into a makeshift ambulance for the light cases, separated from the hall by a heavy curtain. 

He seemed to be in a deep discussion with Professor McGonagall, but when he sensed Harry's eyes on himself, he looked up. 

Harry pointed with his chin towards the hallway. 

Kingsley grinned, gave him a short nod, and excused himself from Headmistress McGonagall. On his way out of the Great Hall he stopped and talked to a small group of Aurors. 

They got up and followed him. 

Satisfied that Kingsley would deal with the Malfoys, Harry returned his attention to the crowd besieging him. 

As the day wore on and the news about Voldemort's downfall spread, more and more people came to the castle. Some of them were relatives of students, driven by real concern for their family. The majority, however, wanted to see with their own eyes that the monster was gone. The small chamber next to the Great Hall where they had put Voldemort's dead body became a veritable tourist attraction. 

When they had satiated their curiosity, he was next on the list. By late afternoon he had troubles to keep on his feet, and a headache that felt as if a hot ring was tied around his head was killing him. 

Hermione, Ron and he had been busy with preparations on the thirtieth of April, and they'd set out for the last step on the way to bring Voldemort down early in the morning of the first of May. He hadn't slept a wink in the night between, he'd been so full of adrenaline, and his last meal had been breakfast on the morning before, when he was too anxious to eat much. 

Merlin, he needed a break, or he'd keel over any second. 

A large hand on his shoulder made him turn around. 

"May I have a word, Mr Potter?" Kingsley said and gave him a small wink. 

Harry let out a silent breath of relief. He excused himself from his adoring public and followed the Auror out of the Great Hall. 

"The Malfoys are dealt with," Kingsley said as soon as they were alone. He grinned. "You bundled them up in a nice package. Good work, lad, and thanks for not killing them."

"You're welcome." The words ended on a huge yawn he couldn't suppress. 

Kingsley grabbed his shoulder once again, this time with a concerned look. "Go and get some sleep, you look dead on your feet, Harry." 

He shook his head. "Can't, I've got a date in" - he checked his watch - "one hour. Won't miss it for anything in the world, so thanks for getting me out of there." 

Kingsley let out a booming laugh. "Ah, to be that young again. The Greengrass girl, I suppose? My congratulations, she's a looker. Besides, it's a wise move on your side to go for a girl from a neutral family." 

What did he mean by that? Kingsley didn't give him the time for a question, he squeezed his shoulder, gave him a nod, and turned around to walk back to the Great Hall. 

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep sigh. Alone, at last!

He trudged his way up to the Gryffindor dorms. The Moving Staircases had stopped moving, but at least they were still intact, so he could get to the common room, even though with a long detour. 

He'd made it as far as to the third floor when the sound of running footsteps behind him made him stop. His wand at the ready, he turned around. 

"Harry, wait!" 

At the sound of Hermione's voice he relaxed and stashed his wand back in the back-pocket of his jeans. The next moment his best friends turned around the corner.

"Where are you going, mate?" Ron asked. 

He hesitated, could he tell them what he was up to? No, they knew nothing about Daphne and him, they wouldn't understand and insist it was a trap of Death Eaters who wanted to take out their revenge on him. Or even worse, they'd insist on coming with him. That would go over well with Daphne. 

A small snort escaped him at that thought.

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "Is everything alright with you, Harry?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Well, you don't look like it."

He rolled his eyes with an inward groan. Telling Hermione he just needed some alone time was out of the question now. He knew the look she gave him, she'd given it to him too many times to count over the years, whenever she was convinced he was dealing with some problems and needed to talk.

She was right, he needed to talk. Just not to her; there was only one person in this world he wanted to unburden his load to, and he was not yet sure if she was willing to take it. 

Aloud he said, "Look, Hermione, I'm dead on my feet, I haven't slept for two days; all I want right now is my four poster bed and a good sleep." 

Hermione's face softened, she bent forward and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Harry. Go and get some rest." 

She took Ron by the hand, and they walked back to the Great Hall. 

Phew! Harry let out a deep breath. What a narrow escape, he'd half expected her to insist coming with him and make sure he was tucked in properly. 

He was still chuckling when he reached the Gryffindor dorms. Although all the windows were broken and shards of glass covered the floors, the tower was still standing by some miracle. He trudged up to the seventh year boy's dorm and looked at his watch. He still had a little more than half an hour to spare. 

What now? 

He gave the four poster beds a wistful glance, but decided against a nap. If he lay down now, he'd be out like a light and never would be able to get up in time for his date with Daphne. Maybe a shower would keep him awake. 

He looked down at himself and made a face. Definitely a shower, and fresh clothes, too. He'd put on the jeans and t-shirt he wore on Friday morning, and now was Sunday afternoon. Between then and now lay a battle, his death, and the defeat of a Dark Lord; his clothes were splattered with stains the origins he didn't want to know, and he smelled like a polecat. 

A long shower helped a lot to ease the tension in his muscles, and wash away the fatigue. Good thinking he'd developed the habit of carrying all of his possessions shrunken in the Mokeskin pouch Hagrid gave him for his seventeenth birthday, and even better that Hermione made him shop new clothes during the time they stayed hidden in plain sight at a Muggle hotel in Manchester. In order to keep themselves sane during the hunt for the Horcrux, both he and Hermione had wandered around Manchester city centre, whilst Ron opted to stay in the hotel room. Even though Harry had vowed never to shop with Hermione Granger ever again, right now he could kiss his best friend for all the clothes she helped him pick out, he would have been horrified turning up to this evening with Daphne in his Dursley rags. 

He pulled his shrunken trunk out of the mokeskin pouch and examined its content. A pair of tight, straight cut grey jeans caught his eye, there had to be a dark blue t-shirt somewhere that went with them. Ah, there it was. 

He pulled the t-shirt over his head and eyed himself in the bathroom mirror. 

"Yummy," the mirror said.

His cheeks grew warm. Although he wasn't as vain as Seamus, the mirror had a point. Whenever they'd come to a dead end in their search for Voldemort's Horcruxes, he'd hit the gym at the hotel to work away his frustration. As soon as he realised the positive results on his stamina and strength, he'd even doubled his efforts. As a result, the t-shirt fit him like a second skin and showed off his broad shoulders and narrow hips. 

Would Daphne like his new looks? She didn't seem to get enough of exploring his chest and abdomen with her hands the one night they'd spent together…

The heat in his cheeks intensified. She'd said she would love to continue what they had started, find out what they could be. What if she had changed his mind? 

His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at that thought. 

Yet, she had run to him, hugged him and kissed him. His heartbeat sped up. Maybe she had missed him as much as he had missed her?

All the time he was smiling and shaking hands he just wanted to see her, now at last he could. He pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head and left the dorm. His heart beat a happy dance, he couldn't wait to see her again, and almost sprinted to the tower. 

She was waiting for him at the peak, her impassive face gave way to a bright smile as he ripped off the cloak. 

She pulled a piece of parchment out of her cloak and held it out to him. “Do you trust me, Harry?” 

“Yes.”

Mrs Weasley would scold him rotten for being so reckless to run away from the castle with a woman he barely knew, so soon after the battle. Yet he knew he could trust Daphne. It was not because she had slept with him, no, it was because she had showed him her vulnerable side, something she usually hid under her impassive face so well that some idiots at school had called her the Ice Queen, and she'd accepted a marriage that seemed like a life sentence to her to keep her family safe. Being a private person himself, and having accepted to sacrifice himself to keep his friends and their families safe, he could relate to that. 

Daphne and he had more in common than met the eye. Was it enough to make them last longer than just a short, passionate fling? He surely hoped so, but only time would tell. 

He looked down on the piece of parchment, an address was neatly scrawled on it. 

“The parchment will act as a Portkey. Follow me in ten minutes; I need time for some preparations.” 

"What preparations?" He wriggled his eyebrows at her. 

She just laughed and put her wand to another piece of parchment. The parchment glowed blue, and Daphne vanished. 

Harry sighed and pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head once again. Merlin forbid one of his adoring fans would stumble on him while he waited for those ten minutes to pass. 

He looked at his watch while he replayed Daphne's laugh in his memory again and again. It was soft and musical, and carefree. In the short time they'd spent together she'd never laughed that carefree, and he couldn't wait to hear that sound again. 

At last those ten minutes that felt a lifetime had passed. He pulled out his wand under his Invisibility Cloak and put it on the piece of parchment in his hand. He might trust Daphne, but he was no fool. She might have been followed and used without her knowledge, so he'd better be safe than sorry. 

The next moment the Portkey yanked him away and spun him through the void for a few long minutes. He landed under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak and looked around. 

The Portkey dropped him in a quiet country lane. Birds chirped in the blossoming hedgerows that lined the lane, and there was the faint sound of waves crashing against rocks in the distance. He turned his attention to the cottage before him. Walled with neatly trimmed ivy that gave the home a very natural feel, and a small lawn littered with beautiful flowers, it looked cosy and inviting. 

Some lingering tension he hadn't realised until now that was still there dropped from his shoulders. His breathing became lighter and he straightened. The cottage surely didn't look like a Death Eater haunt, after what he remembered from Malfoy Manor they preferred a more gothic ambiente. 

Movement in one of the front windows caught his eye. A light shone there, a warm glow emitting from the room. 

Then he saw her. 

She was doing something in front of the window, he couldn’t make out quite what, and as though she sensed his eyes on her she looked up. 

Something fluttered in his stomach, and his mouth became dry. Gods,she was so beautiful.

She smiled at him through the window. Her smile was bright and - hopeful? 

Ten months ago they had shared an unexpected night of passion, driven by their fear of death and a dark future. That night bore unexpected feelings to surface for the both of them. However, now that the threat was gone, where did that leave them? 

He looked down at his empty hands. Maybe he should have brought something with him, a bottle of wine, or at least some flowers. 

Then again, they had decided to meet tonight to talk. Treating this like a date might be a bit presumptuous on his side. 

Yes, she had been happy that he had survived, the embrace back at school had shown that. He knew he wanted this to go somewhere, but what about her? She'd said that fateful night she'd want to find out what they could be. That had been ten months and a war ago, what if she had changed her mind? Now she was not forced to marry Malfoy anymore she was free, the fire that drove her and him together was gone. 

His heartbeat seemed to stop at the thought, and he swallowed hard.

Perhaps he should just go to her and find out. 

He looked up at the window again. She dried her hands and stepped back from the window, probably to open the door for him. He walked up the front path and reached the dark wooden door just as it opened. He swallowed again. Was she as nervous as he? 

“You came!” she said with a large smile on her face. 

“You doubted I would?” 

“No, I just... I don’t know.” She laughed nervously and bit her lip. 

His eyes lingered on her rosy mouth. Should he just bent down and kiss her? 

“Come in.” She stepped aside to let him into the hallway. 

Damn, the moment was gone. 

The entryway had pale walls and light oak trim with matching hardwood floors. An elegant coat stand to the right of the door and a small table to the left. Two doors on the right, one towards the back and lastly one on the left led to the rooms on the ground floor.

“Can I take your coat?” 

He suppressed a wince. They were much too formal with each other. “Oh, yes of course!” He pulled off his coat and revealed the outfit he'd chosen to impress her. 

She took his coat, her eyes flickered over him, and a light dusting of pink appeared on her cheeks. 

So, she liked what she saw? He straightened and gave her a playful grin. "Thank you."

The pink on her cheeks seemed to become deeper.

A faint smell of roast chicken permeated through the hallway, and his stomach, reminded that he hadn't had any food for more than a day, gave a loud growl of appreciation. Now it was his turn for the heat to rise to his face, and he gave the young woman beside him a sheepish sideway glance. 

A hearty laugh escaped Daphne's lips. It was contagious, and he chuckled, too. Their laughter did wonders to defuse the nervous energy that had filled the hallway. 

“Come on through, dinner is ready.” She walked ahead, through the door on the left. That gave him time to admire her incredible appearance. 

She wore a slate grey skirt that was quite a bit shorter than the conservative school skirts she wore at Hogwarts, paired with a cobalt blue asymmetrical sleeved top that left her right shoulder and arm exposed. The skirt gave him a nice view of her legs, and he smiled in appreciation. Had she remembered how much he was attracted to her legs and dressed accordingly? She didn't wear much makeup, she didn't need it, she had a natural beauty to her that make up would ruin. He internally thanked Hermione for updating his wardrobe during this year on the run. 

The kitchen had white cabinets with oak wooden tops, whoever owned this place had good tastes. His eyes swerved to the table. A simple candle sat at its centre, between two plates with steaming food under a Stasis Charm. Elegant crystal glasses and a few bottles of cider in a cooler rounded the inviting picture.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, so I played it safe with chicken, potatoes and vegetables. Oh, and treacle tart for dessert,” she said. 

“It's perfect, tart is my favourite.” 

“I imagine most men say that.” She giggled. 

He caught onto her meaning and chuckled also. 

“Should we eat? I thought you might be hungry after today and well, I wanted to talk, so I thought it would make sense.” Her words were rushed, and she bit her lips as she ended. 

Could it be she was as nervous about this as he was?

“You read my mind, I haven’t eaten before the… Well, before the battle, so...” He trailed off again. “But let's eat, it looks wonderful.” 

He pulled out a chair and offered her the seat. She sat down with a smile. 

“I confess that I didn’t know what to cook, so I asked Tracey, who in turn spoke to Blaise. You know him from the Quidditch team, I guess?” She cut a small piece of chicken and put it into her mouth. 

Harry nodded. “He played chaser, didn't he? I knew him better from the Slug Club, however.” He pulled a face at the memory of the club. 

Daphne laughed. “That's something you have in common; he hated that club. Spoke quite highly of you though.” 

He rose his eyebrows at that, even though he knew that not all Slytherins were horrid, he didn’t expect one to rate him in any way. Especially not Blaise, he hadn't been friendly when they ran into each other on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of sixth year. 

His scepticism didn't escape her. “Don’t look so disbelieving, not all of us disliked you, there were some who even wanted to reach out, but they never dared. You know how it was, Malfoy had decided you were his enemy before we had even reached Hogwarts, and after fourth year, when things got darker, becoming friends with Harry Potter was the sure way to self-destruction if you were a Slytherin.” 

Had she been one of those who wanted to reach out? Harry itched to know, but perhaps that was a question for a later time, when they had defined how they stood with each other. “I understand.” He smiled to show her he meant no offense, and took another bite of his chicken. It tasted simply divine. “Did you make this yourself?” He gestured to the food. 

“I did, I hope it is ok?” 

“It's wonderful!” He never would've thought that a Pureblood was this good in the kitchen. Then again, Mrs Weasley was also a Pureblood, she'd drag him over hot coals if she heard him voice that thought. 

Daphne smiled at him over the candle. “Thank you, I’m glad you like it. As I was saying, Blaise suggested that his go to was this, it tastes good and it's good if you like to keep in shape.” 

“So you're saying I'm in shape, or that I need to get in shape?” He winked at her. 

She went bright red. “Gods, no! I mean you are in shape, I saw as much – I mean... Oh, stop talking, Daphne.” 

Harry broke into a hearty laugh. 

She glared at him for a moment, then joined in with his laughter. 

“How long have you been cooking?” 

“My mother insists that we learnt from a young age; just because we have house elves doesn’t mean we won't appreciate developing skills, she would say.” A fond smile graced her lips. 

How many memories of cooking with her mother flitted about her mind right now? 

Her beautiful blue eyes met his warmth behind them. “Truth be told, I think she just wanted an excuse to spend time with us, and it was a method to do that.” 

“A wise woman.” How different their memories of their childhood were. He also had cooked with his aunt and had given his best in hopes of some affection. It never came, and over time he grew to dread her presence and gave up hope for any kind of care. How much of that translated into his teenage years he could never tell. 

“She has her moments. For a Gryffindor anyway.” She gave him a teasing wink. 

“I knew I liked your mother from the moment I saw her.” 

That made her giggle. 

“Let me guess, your father was a Ravenclaw?” 

He eyes bugged out a little whilst she chewed. “How did you know? Was it the bored expression he has on his face?” 

“I wouldn’t have put it like that... But yes, the ravens are always so serious.”

“He is, that’s why mother is good for him. She doesn’t take his nonsense.” Daphne placed down her fork and leaned forward. “How about you Harry, do you cook?” 

“Er, I do actually. I’m rather good at it, I think, at least no one has complained.” He would know if he were poor at cooking, the Dursley’s wouldn't have held back their disapproval. 

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me, you appear to be naturally good at anything you do." She gave him a meaningful look from under long eyelashes, and the heat shot into his face. "It's one of the primary reasons Draco hated you so much." She continued as if she didn't notice his embarrassment. "You outclassed him and many others at everything you did. And if you are such a hand in the kitchen, we should cook together sometime, see what we come up with.” 

“I’d like that.” He smiled. Unbidden images of what else they could come up with in the kitchen assaulted his mind. Going by the mischievous grin she gave him over the rim of her glass that was exactly what she had had in mind. That little minx! At the mention of Malfoy, however, a question that had lingered at the back of his mind ever since the encounter in the hallway came forward. 

“How was it here for you? Did Draco try anything?” 

“Well, being a Pureblood made things a lot easier. The Muggleborns and half-bloods had it far worse.” Her eyes darkened at those last words. “Tracey was lucky, she had protection from Blaise as his mistress... That’s what those bigots called her.” A spark of fury appeared in her eyes. "They won't understand that Blaise really loves her. I wouldn't be surprised if he proposes soon."

“No one ever said Death Eaters were smart."

"Right." She picked up her glass and took a sip. "I won't lie to you, Draco did try pushing things. I’m not stupid, however, so I was never alone. Tracey, Tori and Blaise were always around. Thankfully Pansy’s more loose nature did keep him less focused on me." 

Harry tensed and flattened his lips into a thin line. 

Something she clearly noted. “He never touched me, I promise. If he had, then trust me, he would’ve known about us. He was likely scared of the curse put on his family as Death Eaters. The worst I got was slurs and suggestions.” 

He let out a breath of relief. At least her torment had not been as bad as he had feared whilst he was away. 

“How are you feeling though? Today, as trying for the rest of us, was nothing compared to what you must have gone through.” She gave him an appraising look.

He returned her gaze. What had Kingsley said about talking back at the castle? Despite everything that had happened to him, he'd always dealt with the repercussions alone, locked up in his summer jail at the Dursleys. He'd never felt the need to talk, either; one of the first rules his aunt and uncle had ingrained into him was not to talk about what happened to him. So he'd suffered in silence, not even Ron and Hermione knew what was really going on inside of him. 

What was so different about the young woman who sat opposite of him that he not only considered unburdening his load to her, but deep inside knew he'd be devastated if she refused to take the part in his life he offered her? 

Well, there was only one way to find out if today would end in elation or devastation. “I’ll tell you, but perhaps somewhere more comfortable?” 

“Of course, let's go into the living room. Come on.” She rose from her seat as she spoke. 

He motioned to follow, but stopped as he remembered something from earlier. “You said there was treacle tart?” 

She laughed at the puppy-dog eyes he gave her. 

“I shall get some for us, hang on.” She gave him a wink and removed the plates from the table. 

He admired her from behind as she moved about the kitchen.

“What made you pick this desert?” 

She flushed bright red. How odd. 

“When I thought about inviting you over, I panicked a bit about what to feed you.” She bit her lower lip. 

Why by Merlin's balls was she so embarrassed? 

"I told you there were some Slytherins who wanted to reach out to you, didn't I?" 

He nodded; where was this going? 

Her cheeks pinked again. "Well, I was one of them. I used to watch you across the Great Hall for an opening to get to know you. My bad luck you were always surrounded by Weasley, or Granger, or some of your housemates who used to glower at us whenever a Slytherin came closer to you than three yards. But I happened to notice little things about you, one of them was that you seemed to like treacle tart for dessert." 

“Well, you weren’t wrong.” 

“I was very relieved when you said earlier.” She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, and they both laughed. 

Daphne picked up the two plates with the dessert from the kitchen counter. “Come on, I’ll show you to the living room.” 

They exited the kitchen and crossed the entryway to the room opposite. Since her hands were full, he opened the door for her and followed her into a very cosy living space. Two comfortable red and cream tartan sofas sat opposite each other to the left and right of the large fireplace, with an oak coffee table separating them. Many plush cushions and soft throws laid out over them, and oak wooden floors with a large grey shaggy rug covering much of the floor space added to the cosy feeling of the room. Opposite of one sofa a large window faced the front lawn of the cottage. Beyond that was a stretch of unkempt beach grass, and then nothing but the open skies and a silvery strip of water in the distance. 

Harry supposed that was the point where the cliffs dropped into the sea. “This is beautiful,” he muttered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Daphne motioned to one of the sofas, inviting him to sit down. They both opted for the one facing the window, though the failing light hindered their view, not that it mattered, for their eyes lingered on one another. They sat close together, both tucking into their tarts. 

“Is this cottage your family's?” Harry asked at length. He knew that he was stalling, he was not yet ready, he just needed to get his thoughts in order first. 

A flicker of understanding flashed behind her eyes. 

“My mother came from a poorer pureblood family, not poverty, but not from money, either. My father's family has the money. My parents met just after Hogwarts, it was quite the whirlwind romance from what my mother tells of it.” There was that fond smile again, it appeared whenever she spoke of her family. 

A dull heartache spread in his chest, he took a deep breath, and his mouth curved into a wistful smile. Her childhood must have been much different from his, everything she'd told him so far spoke of her growing up in the security of a loving environment, despite her father's despicable bargain with Lucius Malfoy. Oh, to have a family like that one day… He pushed that little child under the stairs away. 

“When they married, my father was expected to keep up appearances. He is a Greengrass and thus has a seat on the Wizengamot, so there are expectations. My mother, however, wanted to remember her roots, so father had this built for her.” She gestured around the cosy room. “We come here in the summer sometimes, or for weekends away, I have a lot of childhood memories here.” 

He smiled to himself, as much as he hated his upbringing, it gave him great joy that Daphne had grown up in a good family. 

“Its sounds wonderful, Daphne.” He had finished his tart whilst she spoke, placed the plate on the coffee table, and looked her in the eyes. “You asked how I was feeling.” 

She sat up straight, put her own plate down, and reached for his hand. 

He took a deep breath, it was now or never, and raised his eyes to hers. There was nothing but genuine concern and warmth in those wonderful blue eyes. If he unloaded his burden now, would it fade away? 

“I’m exhausted, relieved, but so tired. Fighting him today was… tougher than I ever imagined. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, hell, I expected to die today, and I nearly did.” 

She sat there quietly, her hand still holding his, and it seemed to him as if his words had ignited a small light in her eyes. 

“And, although he deserved it, I feel sick at the memory of me using that curse. The Killing Curse, I never thought I would have to use it ever in my life. The moment I cast it, I felt tainted, and my wand,” - he pulled out his holly and phoenix wand, the one that had served him for seven years - “I don’t feel a connection anymore, it feels wrong, as if it doesn't belong to me anymore. And then there’s Remus and Tonks, they left a son behind, my godson. Yeah, his parents were heroes, but I can tell you that offers no comfort growing up.” 

The back of his throat ached, and his eyes burnt as the words kept coming. “The moment I killed him, the weight off my shoulders was instant. All I wanted then was curl up in a corner, but seconds later I have so many people grabbing at me, classmates and people who not two years before were calling me a liar. They expected me to just smile and shake their hand, like I owe them something.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I couldn’t even go and see Fred, or Remus and Tonks, because those parasitic bastards would hound me in my grief.” He willed the tears behind his eyes to stay put. He had not cried since Sirius death; he had spent two years bottling up all that anger and hurt. 

She squeezed his hand again. “I am surprised you are even on your feet, Harry. I only caught a few moments of your fight with him before my sister needed me. You barely deflected a curse, I’ve never felt fear like that when I watched you fighting him, the fact you could stand toe to toe with him is amazing.” 

"Well, then you know what I talked about. Had he managed to land a curse on me…" His lungs would have burst, the mere thought made him shudder.

Daphne edged closer towards him on the sofa. She raised her hand and cupped his cheek, and her thumb caressing him with gentle strokes ignited a pleasant warmth in him, despite the devastation and grief of the day. 

“You should feel no guilt for killing him. Yes, the Killing Curse is dark, and many have written about its effects to the user. I am relieved you feel wrong after using it, you should never be ok casting that spell, no one should. As for your wand? Since you’ve received it you have had to fight for your life. However, that chapter of your life is over now, and maybe your time with that wand is too.” 

How did she manage to find the right words to put things back into perspective? He looked into her eyes again, the light was still there, brighter and warmer even. A reluctant smile spread on his face. “That makes sense, I guess.” 

“Of course, I’m a Greengrass, I know things.” 

Her small joke earned a snort from him. 

Her gaze softened further. “As for your godson, I did not know Professor Lupin well, save for our lessons, but he was always kind and helpful. They couldn’t have picked a better person to be their son's godfather, I cannot imagine growing up without my parents, but the fact that you have gives you better perspective on how he will feel growing up. You can relate where others cannot.” She cuddled up to him and put her head on his shoulder.

She was right on all accounts. They sat like that for a long time, hand in hand, just taking silent comfort with each other. 

At last he spoke again. “I don’t think I would’ve survived, had I not met you that night” 

Her eyes became wide. "How's that?" 

“I never was one for planning, I always left that to Hermione, she is much better organised than I will ever be. She had originally suggested to pack a tent and our belongings and to go into hiding in the wilds of Britain. I agreed to her plan, since I had no ideas of my own to offer. It wasn't until after my promise to you that I realised that plan had huge holes. Besides, it was what every Death Eater would expect us to do.” 

“You could be forgiven for that, the whole wizarding world tipped on its head at Dumbledore’s death. So, what did you do?” 

“Well, straight after I left you at the common room, it dawned on me that I'd better do something to make sure I would survive the war instead on relying solely on Hermione. That was when the flaws in Hermione's plan dawned on me. I reasoned that the only way to keep the Death Eaters off my trail was to disappear into the Muggle world. I figured most would be like Malfoy, completely hopeless about that side of the world. Turns out I was right.” 

“That’s… very clever, Purebloods are terrified of the Muggle world.”

He grinned at her. “Then you will love this. I had my house elf visit Gringotts to make a withdrawal and transfer the funds into British pounds. I made a reservation with a hotel that offers accommodations for assemblers and commercial travellers for a few months, and over the next week ensured that our things were moved there.” The words poured out of him, it was so easy to confide in her. 

“How Slytherin of you Harry, I’m proud.” 

“Given Voldemort’s target audience of followers, I reasoned I’d stand a good chance of evading him. It allowed us to do what needed to be done with less risk.” Warmth welled up in him as something akin to pride highlighted her face. 

He paused, time to be honest with her and talk about the hard part. 

“I really missed you, I know I said that back at school, and it sounds cheesy and likely doesn’t make sense, given we had only that one night together.” 

She threaded his fingers with her own. He looked up into her eyes and saw only understanding.

“Trust me Harry, it's been weird for me as well. The last thing I expected that night I ran into you was to have sex and lose my virginity. I never then expected to miss you quite as much as I did.” Again, there was that light in her eyes. “I thought it was just the fact we’d had sex, maybe there was lingering hormones from that, but as the days and weeks went by I couldn’t shake the feeling.” 

His belly fluttered, he swallowed and put his arm around her. “It was the same for me.” 

“But you’re here now. With me” 

“You have no idea how close that came to not happening, Daphne. By all rights I shouldn't be here right now.” 

He took a deep breath. This was it. The damn had burst, and everything was going to come flushing out. How would she react to that?

“I died in that forest, Voldemort wasn’t lying.” 

Her face paled. “But you’re here. So how did you-“ 

“I had to die for Voldemort to be killed. It’s a very long and twisted story that I will one day sit down with you and explain, but in brief, when Voldemort failed to kill me when I was a baby, part of his soul latched onto me. He needed to kill me to kill it.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her mouth formed a silent "No!"

“I went down to the forest. He stood there, gloating about his victory, but all I could think about was you.” 

A shuddered breath escaped her lips, and he gently pulled her to him. 

“I held onto our last kiss when he cast that spell. I couldn’t keep my promise to come back to you, and that hurt.” 

The memory of his personal failure in that moment threatened to haunt him in his final moments. Yet when the green light had split the darkness, he knew that his death would lead to victory, and lead to her freedom. That alone made his sacrifice worth it. 

“I died with a happy memory.” 

She let out a sob and buried herself into him, her arms gripped him, and her face buried into his neck. A hot flow of tears ran against his neck. 

“Please say this is real? That I’m not in St Mungo’s now and this is just a dream?” She whimpered against his neck. 

He held her tighter to him. “No, I am real, I promise.” He chuckled, trying to sooth her, which earned him a slap on the arm. 

“This is not fucking funny, Harry Potter!” She pulled away from his neck and pushed away slightly so she could look him in the face. “No more putting yourself in deadly danger, do you hear me? You’ve done it often enough, and I won’t allow it anymore.” 

“Yes, Miss Greengrass, I promise.” He couldn't contain the big smile at her obvious concern about him.

She glowered at him. “See to that! And now kiss me!” It wasn’t a request, and he was only too happy to oblige. 

When their lips met for the second time since his return, their kiss seemed to wash away all his stress and grief. Instead, healing set in. It would only be for a few moments of bliss, yet those moments reminded him what he'd been fighting for, and they were worth all the hardships. 

He had seen many sides to Daphne’s affections in their very brief romance. Heated and hungry, soft and loving, pure and honest. This kiss was different, it was heated and filled with relief, but also a promise that the best things for them were still to come. 

They broke apart and held one another there on the sofa.

"You know that we at last can be together, without house restrictions and people trying to hex us in the hallways for the choice we made?" Daphne murmured against his chest. 

"That sounds too good to be true." He'd buried his hand in her silken hair and caressed her scalp with his fingertips. Kingsley's parting words about Daphne being a wise choice for him came back, and he suppressed a sigh. She was wrong, as the man who conquered Voldemort he'd always have a prominent spot in the magical world, maybe even as prominent as Dumbledore's had been. Whomever he chose to be with would also be in the limelight. There would be those who would approve, but there would also be those who would think he could have done better and put them under pressure because of that.

In the end all that mattered were their own feelings. As long as they were convinced they belonged together, the whole world could piss off, as far as he was concerned. 

Would she be willing to cope with all that for his sake? Only time would tell. Right now he was much too tired and much too comfortable than to worry about the future. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. Her hand caressed his chest, and he almost purred. This felt so good... 

A slight shake from Daphne startled him, he opened his eyes and blinked. 

"Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?" 

"You did." She giggled. “Would you like to go to the bedroom?” There was a touch of shyness in her voice. 

Harry froze, he had expected to return to Hogwarts tonight. Perhaps he had been a little naïve. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I think sleep is what we both need. I just don’t think I’ll sleep without you by my side tonight.” There was a touch of vulnerability to her voice that made his mind up for him. 

His heart was threatening to jump out of his mouth as he pulled her closer and gave her a small kiss. 

“I feel the same.” 

A relieved look passed over her fair face. “Will you accompany me to bed then?” She rose from the sofa. 

He was about to agree when something crossed his mind. “What about your parents? Are they ok with this?” He cursed himself internally, way to ruin the mood, Potter! 

“My father is wary, but that’s due to what could’ve been. He was terrified of my union to Draco and is just very protective of me since that.” Daphne came to stand in front of him, took his hand and pulled him up. “Yet my mother and I convinced him that given what I was nearly sacrificing for the family, I had the right to choose here and be allowed a little freedom.” 

She pulled him with her out of the living room and through the hallway. The bedroom was at the very end of the entryway. The bed matched much of the rest of the furniture in the house, painted white with oak trim, with a red tartan spread. A fireplace lay opposite the foot of the bed, with a comfy looking snuggle chair in the corner by the window. A door next to the bed, which was ajar, showed an ensuite bathroom. 

“If you give me a minute, I will just get changed.” She gave him a gentle smile and slipped into the bathroom. 

His hand went up and pulled at the collar of his shirt. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Yes, they had seen each other naked and shared a very intimate night together the year before, so nothing would be new there, but this was a new level of closeness for them. A reluctant smile flickered across Harry's face. Who was he fooling? He couldn't wait to explore that closeness with her, see where it would take them.

He looked down at his clothes, he wasn’t expecting to stay the night, so he had no change of clothes. 

“Are you a wizard or what?” Harry removed his t-shirt and transfigured his jeans into comfortable pyjama trousers. He caught the reflection of himself in the mirror above the fireplace. His torso was heavily defined now, during the down time in the horcrux hunt he expelled a lot of his frustrations in the hotel gym. Would Daphne find it appealing? He surely hoped so. 

The mirror showed the bathroom door opening, and Daphne exited. He turned and smiled at her. “Should we get some rest?” 

Daphne's eyes got wide as she took in his appearance. Her tongue flicked across her lips, and she nodded. Her hands fumbled with the loosely knotted belt of her silver coloured silk peignoir; the robe slipped off her shoulders and revealed a green nightie with lots of semi-transparent lace. 

Little Harry gave an appreciative twitch, although it was halfhearted, at best. The day he'd had left him no energy to show her how much he liked her arousing outfit. 

Daphne pulled him to the bed, peeled back the covers and slipped in. 

"What are you waiting for?" She beckoned her finger to him to join her. 

He sighed in relief as his aching body hit the soft mattress, and the warmth of the duvet covered them both. He reached out for her, intent on having her close to him, but she was already a step ahead as she pressed herself to his side, her hand tracing the defined outline of his stomach. 

“I still can’t believe you defeated him.” 

“Lack of faith in me, then.” He chuckled; the feel of her head against his chest was divine. 

“Not at all. You fought the Dark Lord, Harry, a wizard feared by all and seemingly untouchable.” She looked up, her chin resting on his chest. “And then you came along and showed he was mortal like all of us.” 

“Hmmm… It's over, finally.” He yawned, he'd be out like a light in another minute. His eyelids fluttered shut. 

“One last question before you fall asleep on me again, it's been bugging me all afternoon.” 

He yanked his eyes open. "That is?" 

Daphne giggled. “What happened to your glasses?” 

"My glasses? Woman, don't you have any other problems and can't let a tired wizard sleep?" He gave a playful growl and pulled her closer towards him. 

"Just tell me, Harry, I don't think I'll be able to sleep otherwise." 

She looked up at him with big, blue eyes, and he was a goner. He'd never be able to refuse her anything if she looked at him like this. How long until she found out how much power she held over him? Not long, she was a Slytherin, after all, that bunch had a nose for power, but Merlin, what a way to go. 

He chuckled. “All right, can't have that, can we? After I defeated him, I felt different, my eyesight was improved and I felt lighter, stronger even. Honestly, I don’t know why.” 

“Well, I think you look great without them,” she whispered. She leaned up, pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and snuggled back into his arms.. 

“Goodnight, Daphne.” 

“Night, Harry.” 

…

She and Harry ran around the garden of the cottage, a little girl between them. The long, strawberry blonde hair of the child streamed behind her as she ran, her green eyes, so much like her father's, beamed with delight to have both of her parents to herself. Harry picked the little girl up and swung her high over his head. 

The high-pitched giggles of her daughter turned into deep, male chuckles, intermingled with female laughter. Harry stood up and refilled the wine glasses of Hermione, Ron, Tracey and Blaise. He picked up his own glass and raised it to their guests. "To friendship!" 

"To friendship," their guests echoed, and drank. Across the length of the table, loaded with goodies she and Harry had prepared together, her eyes met her husband's. Their tender expression never failed to melt her heart, and she blew him a kiss over the rim of her glass. 

The expression of his eyes became heated. His arms slid around her waist and pressed her against his naked body, his mouth descended on her and trailed a long line of kisses along her jawbone and down her throat. 

She let out a moan of delight.

Harry steered her towards the low coffee table of the living room, never ceasing his ministrations. 

The familiar heat pooled in her belly. Her calves touched the overhanging edge of the table top. Harry lowered her down until her back lay on the top, her feet still planted on the shaggy rug. Her thighs fell open, ready to receive him. 

He lowered himself onto her. His first, hard thrust made her whimper in delight. 

He thrusted harder. His groan mixed with the sound of splintering wood. The table gave out beneath her, and she fell, and fell, and fell…

Daphne gasped and tore her eyes wide open. Her heart hammered in her chest, her secret spot throbbed, and the bubbling heat in her nether regions begged for release. 

She was pressed up against him, her hardened nipples pointing against his chest through the thin fabric of her nightie. 

The large bulge in his sleepwear didn't help her in the slightest to cool down from her erotic dream. She was craving him, simple as that. She had abandoned plans to seduce him last night after that emotionally draining discussion in the living room. Now it was a new day, however, and he was free game. 

She brought her knee up and over his hips, pressed her soft body against his, and trailed her lips down his neck and chest. That hard length of flesh against her stomach made her moan in delight. 

He stirred and his hands gripped her sides. 

He was awake; good. That way he'd appreciate much more what she was about to do. 

Her lips trailed down to his stomach, his abdominals set something off in her she hadn't thought was possible. The old timers would cry out in disgust about the vulgarity, given they knew that a heiress of one of the sacred twenty-eight families let herself be ruled by her primal instincts.

She held in the laughter threatening to spill. When she got down to the hem of Harry's trousers, she held her breath. What she was intending to do could go either very well or hideously wrong. 

“What are you up to?” Harry's voice was thick with desire. 

“Just relax and enjoy, you’ll see in a minute.” She took a breath and pulled his hard length of flesh from its confines. His member twitched in her hand, and he let out a low groan that fuelled her own desire. With a final breath she opened her mouth and took him in. 

He took a sharp intake of breath, and his body shook with delight. 

Daphne grinned around him; maybe Tracey was on to something after all. 

She applied herself to her task with renewed vigor. Judging by the sounds coming from above her she was doing something right. His body shook violently.

Her own desire reached fever pitch, she was ready to take him now, her centre burned with desire, and she couldn’t wait to have that part of her embrace him again. 

She continued to pleasure him with her mouth until his hand fisted in her hair and lifted her head gently. 

“Love, you need to stop... Otherwise I’m not going to last.” He panted above her. 

She let him slip from her mouth and looked up with a mischievous grin. “Did you enjoy your treat?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her up with a low growl and flipped her over and onto her back. Her nightie rode up her thighs, the next moment his lips were at her neck, nipping and kissing, while his morning stubble tickled her sensitive skin. 

She moaned between giggles. 

He raised his head and gave her a feral grin. "You've had your fun, woman, let's get to business." 

Delicious heat consumed her whole body as he pulled the straps of her nightgown down and pushed it up from her hips until the silk bunched at her waist. He was right, she didn’t want teasing right now, there would be plenty of time for that in future, all she wanted now after ten months apart was him inside of her. 

She didn’t have to wait for long until his hardened length pressed into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she arched her back with a sensual groan to meet his thrust. Merlin, it had been too long! 

Not surprising, they both didn't last long; her climax hit her with the weight of a freight train. 

"Definitely Silencing Charms next time." Harry panted into her ear between breathless chuckles. 

She pouted. 'It's all your fault." 

"Says she who sexually assaults innocent wizards in their sleep." 

"I didn't hear you telling me to stop." 

He gave her a saucy grin. "What, and deprive myself? I'm not made out of stone, love." 

"Could have fooled me, at least part of you." She returned his saucy grin. 

They laughed; Harry turned around and pulled her with him. He nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear. "What gave you that idea?" 

She made herself comfortable on his chest. "You might want to thank Tracey for that."

His eyes almost bulged out of his head. "You're discussing our love life with her?" 

"Not if I can help it." She giggled at his horrified expression. "However, if you knew her as well as I do, you'd know that nothing is taboo for her. Unfortunately, her favourite subject of conversation is sex. I was rather down all the time you were away, and she tried to lighten my mood by bringing up interesting ways to pleasure each other when you'd returned. Going down on you was one of them. You should have seen my face when she suggested practising on a banana!" She shuddered. 

He laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at her in a suggestive manner. "So there's more for me to look forward to?" 

"You'll have to wait and see," she replied with a smile. This was bliss, with the war over they could finally explore whatever was between them. 

However, what was between them? She had to know. 

She raised her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. "Tell me, what are we, Harry? Are we just here for the phyiscal? Or are we an item?" 

She wanted more than just the first option. 

He tightened his grip around her. "Definitely the latter, if you will have me." His voice was strong and sincere. 

A huge smile appeared on her face. Instead of an answer she leaned up and kissed him deeply. When they broke apart at last, she leaned her forehead against his and smiled into his tender eyes. "Now that that's settled, boyfriend of mine, you'd better get that delectable behind of yours out of bed, dress, and meet my parents for breakfast." 

He answered with a long groan that was drowned out by her laughter. 

……

And done! Massive efforts from Dorothea Greengrass here, thank you so much for all the help on this one.

That is the first instalment, there will be many one/two shots following throughout different stages of the couple’s lives!

I have a few penned down!


End file.
